


There’s No Textbook For This

by Ardatli



Series: Profs!AU [1]
Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Endgame is Billy/Teddy, M/M, No cheating, Romance, Slow Build, University AU, all smut is Billy/Teddy, but it all ends well, not as fluffy as originally planned, the porn is in chapters five - eleven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 95,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardatli/pseuds/Ardatli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tenure-track teaching job is the rarest of holy grails for a young academic, but getting hired may have been the easy part. </p><p>These things he can be sure of: his students are going to drive him crazy, the bureaucracy is driving him to drink, and Bill Kaplan in the office down the hall is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Too bad Billy already has a boyfriend. </p><p>All Teddy wants is to survive his first year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. August

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never actually been on the campus of either CUNY or NYU. Rather than make an utter hash job of a real college and trying to fake it through Wikipedia and school websites, I’ve chosen to set this story at the fictional NYCU instead, so I can make a hash job of continuity at an imaginary school. NYCU is not based on any particular institution, but is a general mashup of Various Post-Secondaries I Have Loved. 
> 
> I do not own the Marvel characters in any way, shape or form, and all OCs that may appear are strictly a product of my own fevered imagination. Any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintended on my part. 
> 
> Betaed by Tzu and feebleapb. Without them, this would have been pages of nothing but “I am a fish.” 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for being awesome and inspiring.
> 
> \--
> 
> There is some amazing, incredible (non-spoilering) fanart for this! I can't begin to describe how happy this makes me.
> 
> [Teddy and Darcy](http://heroic-wannabe-artist.tumblr.com/post/55338805917/hey-wait-up-for-your-sassy-straight-friend), by heroic-wannabe-artist
> 
> and
> 
> [Billy in his glasses!](http://carliscrazy.tumblr.com/post/43872372527) by carliscrazy. 
> 
> You guys make me cry.

**_Important Dates for the 2012/13 academic year_ **

**_New Faculty Campus-wide Orientation – Tuesday, August  14_ **

**_Freshman Orientation Begins - Sunday, August 26_ **

 

The August day wasn’t quite as hot and sticky as the radio had predicted, and Teddy Altman sat down on the wide concrete stairs outside the university library with a soft, contented sigh. He could see most of the campus from here, his perch at the top of the stairs overlooking the hill that sloped down to meet the green of the central quad. He dropped his bag beside him. A light breeze ruffled the ends of his hair; not cool enough to be useful, just enough so that the air itself didn’t feel stagnant.

He’d made it. He was here.

There was a crazy amount of work waiting for him, between the official orientation meetings and unpacking, never mind pulling together his course packs, preparing for lectures...

Right now, though, he could have this moment, the sun and the breeze, the concrete warm beneath him, the sounds of cheering coming from the field behind the quad. He had five years to make his mark, put down the first tentative roots of permanence.

_I did it, mom.  I wish-_

She should have been here to see this. If the world were fair, she would still be on his speed dial, be waiting for him to call and tell her stories about his new co-workers, the campus, the classes he was planning to teach.

He would e-mail Uncle Kurt on the weekend, but it was hardly the same.

A cloud passed across the sun, and Teddy pulled himself to his feet. The metal of the railing was hot under his hand and he scrubbed his palm across the thigh of his khakis to get rid of the momentary sting. A cluster of students were making their way across the quad and he smiled at them as they passed. At thirty-one, he wasn’t that much older than they were in the grand scheme of things, but they looked so ridiculously young.

He had an hour before he had his meeting with Virginia Potts. The name made him think of a sweet little grandmotherly type, the kind of department administrator who would have blued hair and horn-rim glasses on a chain, and keep a drawer full of chocolates to soothe panicking undergrads.

Hands in his pockets, whistling softly and a little tunelessly, Teddy ambled back along the path lining the quad. He took the long route to the Arts building, at least according to his creased and refolded copy of the campus map, and paced out the steps toward his new home.

\--

“The History faculty offices are all along this hallway, and on the two floors above. Classics is to your right, and English on your left.” The clicking of Ms. Potts’ alarmingly high heels echoed down the empty hall of the Arts building, and Teddy nodded, taking longer steps than usual in order to keep up with her.

This building was new-ish, at least, part of the big campus renewal project that had been splashed over the NYCU website the last couple of years. If he strained he could hear the sounds of the hammers and saws from the construction next door, another set of renovations to turn an older brick building into a matching wall of glass and steel.

The long stretch of white wall was broken at regular intervals by wooden office doors, strips of glass window half-covered with comic strips and newspaper clippings. Each door had a nameplate and Teddy caught himself reading them as he passed. _Dr. Carol Danvers._ He knew that name – she was the department chair. _Dr. Jessica Drew. Dr. Katherine Bishop. Dr. William Kaplan. Dr. Elijah Bradley._

Ms. Potts was still talking, Teddy realized with a start, and he guiltily tuned back in to catch the rest of her well-rehearsed instructions. The office manager was maybe ten years older than he was, if that, and frighteningly efficient. She had strawberry-blonde hair pulled back in a clip, shoes that brought her to his eye level, and a warmly practiced smile.

“You’ve got the University orientation tomorrow morning at eight, and the Faculty orientation on Thursday at eight-thirty.” She paused by a door with no nameplate on it yet, pulled a ring of keys out of one perfectly-tailored pocket, and he felt a little thrill of excitement rush through him as she unlocked the door with a precise twist of her wrist.

The door opened onto a tidy little space; one bookshelf, a desk, a couple of the boxes of books he’d sent ahead, a computer, no chair but space for one, and maybe a couple of others for students. _His office_. Not a cubicle shared with two other post-docs, or six-grad-students-in-a-closet. He was able to hang on to his zen, not betray exactly how excited bordering on overwhelmed he was, but only just. “Eight and eight-thirty,” Teddy repeated, just to confirm that he was listening. “At the student union building.” 

“Here are your keys. Your copy codes and internet access codes are in the package in your mailbox, and Darcy will be by once you’re settled to take care of the intake paperwork.” She stopped, smiled and laid a hand on his arm as he hesitated in the doorway. “We’re right down the hall, Dr. Altman; just ask for anything you need. You’ll have a few weeks to get settled in before classes start, so take a breath,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Teddy nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Potts-“

“Pepper, please.”

“Pepper?” He grinned, then decided that discretion was the better part of valour and didn’t ask. “In that case, I’m Ted.”

A door opened in the hallway behind them and Teddy heard voices. He turned, curious. Two men came out of the office three doors down, both tall and slim. One was dressed in an expensive suit, had hair so blond that it was almost white, and the other-

-   the other was dark-haired, dark-eyed and slim-hipped, casual in a plain black t-shirt that did nothing to hide the strength in his shoulders and arms. He had a leather bag slung over one shoulder, and the glasses tucked into his collar dragged his shirt down just enough for Teddy to catch a glimpse of pale collarbone beneath. He wanted to lick it.

 _And that’s quite enough of_ that _._ _Don’t be stupid, Altman._

 “Bill,” Pepper called, and the men stopped talking, and turned almost in sync. “I’d like you to meet our new hire. Doctor Ted Altman, Doctor William Kaplan. And Thomas Shepherd, who isn’t ours, but seems to live here regardless.”

The surnames were different, but they looked the same.

It had taken him a second to make the connection, between the differences in their colouring and the clothes, but the two men had identical faces. They even had similar expressions at the moment, though the appraising look the dark-haired one was giving him along with the curiosity made Teddy’s pulse race, just a little bit.

“You know you’d miss me if I stopped coming around, Pep,” the blond twin replied, one side of his mouth twisting up into a grin. That made him Thomas, Teddy guessed, which made the other one Bill.

“How would I know if you never give me a chance to find out?” Pepper’s reply was smooth and easy, had the feeling of an old game between them.

“Bill,” the dark-haired twin replied, ignoring Thomas and extending his hand. Teddy clasped it and shook. Bill’s grip was strong and steady, his skin warm, and Teddy groaned inwardly at the realization that he was cataloguing every last detail. _Loser._ The guy was a colleague, and more than likely straight. Now was _not_ the time to get another hopeless crush.

“Ted.”

Teddy dropped his hand as he introduced himself and Bill swung around to point at his twin. “No. Don’t even begin to go there.”

“Most excellent, dudes.” Thomas cracked regardless. “Bodacious.”

Bill rolled his eyes. “I’d apologize for my brother, but I know there’s no hope.”

“Ted is our new early modernist,” Pepper stepped smoothly into the half-second beat before Thomas could say something more. “Bill is one of the department’s medievalists.”

Bill grinned with delight. “Ah, _you’re_ the guy taking the Tudor and Stuart survey course off my hands. You’re my new best friend already.”

“Turn my back for thirty seconds and I’m already being replaced?” Thomas glanced at his watch. “Shit; I’m late. It’s been fun, chums, but I have to bail. Did you still want that ride, Billy?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Teddy felt a flicker of disappointment, tried to tamp it down certain that it was showing on his face. _Real smooth._ Bill adjusted the strap over his shoulder, fidgeted with the soft leather. “It was good to meet you,” he said after a barely perceptible pause. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” Teddy echoed, and watched for a second as Bill followed his brother down the hall an out of the building. He was _not_ watching his butt. He was so intently _not_ watching Bill’s butt as he walked away that he missed the first part of what Pepper was saying, and he had to scramble to replay it in his mind, the tips of his ears flushing warm.

“Uh, yes. I have an appointment to meet with Doctor Danvers tomorrow. Are there a lot of younger faculty in the department?” It was a rougher segue out loud than it had been in his head, but it wasn’t like she wouldn’t be able to figure out where the question was coming from.

She looked like she was covering a smile, but she replied smoothly, like he hadn’t just made an ass out of himself. “A few. Retirements always seem to come in waves. You’ll have a chance to meet everyone at the departmental meeting next week.” She glanced at her own watch. “I have to run to a meeting, and I assume you’ll want some time to settle in. Remember to check your mailbox in the office, and if you have any questions-“

“I’ll come find you, thanks.”

Pepper laid a hand on his arm, a light and reassuring touch. “It can all be a little overwhelming at first, I know. But you’ll settle into a routine in no time. Welcome to NYCU, Doctor Altman.”

\--

The ‘Darcy’ that Pepper had promised turned out to be Darcy Lewis, Administrative Assistant, a curvy brunette with a red-painted mouth slightly too large for her face and a houndstooth skirt slightly too short for the office. She breezed into Teddy’s office about an hour after Pepper had left him to it, a pile of file folders in her arms and a smile a mile wide.

Teddy scrambled to his feet and set aside the couple of books in his hand, and dusted off the knees of his slacks out of sheer force of habit.

“Good morning, oh newest of the new guys. I’m Darcy, you’re Theodore? That’s an excellent name. Very posh.”

“Ted,” he corrected her. Her smile was infectious. He eyeballed the stack of papers in her arms with suspicion, but at least she was a friendly face. “No-one calls me Theodore. I’d offer you a chair, but I don’t have any yet. There’s a clear spot on the desk if you need to put those down.” He crossed the two steps to get to his desk and shoved the small stack of books there to one side, to make even more room.

“Gracias,” Darcy chirped in reply, and dumped the pile with little to no ceremony.

“Is all of that for me?” Teddy looked at the stack with alarm.

She looked down at the files as though surprised, then flashed a wicked grin. “’fraid so. But I am a veritable goddess at processing this crap, so we’ll have you signed, sealed and delivered in no time flat. I’ve got your payroll forms, your tax withholdings, the TA lists and responsibility sheets, bookstore order forms, the survey for the departmental website, your copies of all the campus policies, and dates for your mandatory harassment training seminars. Do you know where the HR department is?”

Was everything going to be delivered in a wall of words so thick that it took him a second to parse it out? Teddy was going to get a reputation if all he ever did was stand there slightly agape. “No,” he shook his head. “But I have a meeting with Ms. Hill next week.”

“Better you than me,” Darcy whistled, and took a seat on the large box he’d been using as a half-assed desk chair replacement. “Tell you what. I can’t do it today, but one day soon we’ll do lunch. I’ll take you on the full campus tour, Admin down to Zoology. There’s a half-decent sandwich place in the library atrium.”

Teddy blinked, then nodded. “That would be good, sure,” he replied. “I appreciate the offer.”

 “That’s great,” she said. “Because you’re buying, as a thank you for all my efforts.” And she flashed a wide and utterly un-self-conscious smile. “Now. Sit your butt down somewhere, because we have dead trees to justify.” He looked around for his options, gave up, and perched on the corner of his desk as she kept talking. “You’ll have TAs for two of your courses, but not the seminar – that’s got a cap of twenty students, and we only have the budget for TAs on classes that go sixty-plus...”

\--

Between orientation, and meetings with the chair, the Dean, human resources (and anyone who said that Maria Hill wasn’t a terrifying woman had never sat down across a table from her), it was a couple of days before Teddy ran into Bill Kaplan again.

It wasn’t as if he’d been _looking_ for him or anything. Or leaving his office door open, just a little, to indicate that he was in and maybe open to the idea of visitors. It was only normal that he’d be interested in getting to know his new colleagues. He’d be just as eager to talk if he noticed Dr. Bishop’s door opening, for instance. Or Dr. Drew. 

Except that it wasn’t either of them whose rushed footsteps he heard in the hallway late Friday morning. He glanced out from where he was perched on his box, and saw a harried-looking figure in the hall, a pile of books under one arm, a coffee clutched desperately in his other hand, and a key ring clenched in his teeth.

-          _Right._ He hit send on the email to Facilities Management; everything here, even ordering chairs, had a new process to get the hang of. –

Teddy rose to his feet and moved quickly into the hall to join him. He held out his hands when Bill glanced up, a flash of something _– pleased to see him?_ – in his eyes. An answering jolt ran through Teddy’s nerves, tingling down to his fingers, before he could remind himself that it was probably just relief that someone had showed up to help.

“Here, give me some of that,” Teddy offered, already reaching for the coffee and the key ring before Bill could object, touching Bill’s elbow gently to encourage him to let go. “You look like you could use an extra pair of hands.”

“Or a minion,” Bill joked, his eyes locking onto Teddy’s for a second – _what was that colour? Caramel?_ – and then he was looking at everything _but_ Ted. “Position’s open, if you’re looking for a side job.” He took his keys back, turned away quickly to open his office door, the back of his neck flushed.  

Teddy chuckled, not sure what else to do or say, other than stare for a moment at the line of Billy’s jaw, and- _stop that. You’re being creepy._ He was still holding the coffee, though, so he followed him into his office and leaned against the door frame, trying to look casual.

Bill’s office looked like a whirlwind had torn through it. Piles of printouts were stacked on every flat surface – and a few that were only nominally flat. More books and journals, many of them heavily tabbed and marked with different highlighters, were piled precariously on the floor.

“So- um.” Bill began, setting his books on his desk and half-turning back to face Teddy. “Sorry about the mess. Kate and I are in the last push to get a manuscript out the door before the term starts, and somehow it all exploded in here.” He gestured vaguely at the jumble.

“I don’t mind,” Teddy replied, though it was difficult to imagine how anyone could think, never mind _work_ in this kind of disaster area, but hell – it wasn’t his office; he didn’t have to like it. He took the chance while Bill was rummaging through his papers to glance over the books on the shelves beside him. Knighton’s Chronicle, the Grey Friars, Strunk and White, Wheelock’s Latin- “You speak Latin?” He knew the question was dumb the moment he asked it – _medievalist. Way to go, smart guy –_ but it was too late to take it back.

“I kind of have to, considering,” Bill didn’t seem to notice how ridiculous the question was, or if he did, he didn’t laugh. Points to him. “Half of my sources are in that or Old English. You don’t?”

“I managed to get away without it,” Teddy confessed. “Eighteenth century French was bad enough.”

“Lucky bastard.” Bill grinned, a little more easily now, and crouched in front of his filing cabinet to tug open the bottom drawer. Teddy very carefully did not look at the way Bill’s shirt rode up along his back, or how it pulled tight across the muscles of his shoulders when he leaned forward. “Where’d you do your grad work?”

“Dartmouth. UC Davis for undergrad, though.” And there was a moment where he wasn’t sure what reaction he’d get. Hell, he _should_ be proud, he’d earned his way into a good school with sweat and tears, and no legacy to help him on his way. But he might sound like he was bragging, or-

“You’re a California boy?” Bill stood and grinned at Teddy like he knew something that Teddy didn’t. He rested one arm on the top of the cabinet and something warm inside of Teddy began to grow, to take the shape of that smile.

“Local, actually. I grew up here in New York but-“ he hesitated, missed a beat only by a half of a second, then picked up again. “I moved to Oregon halfway through high school. I missed the east coast, though. It’s good to be back.” And then, because Billy was still giving him that amused smile, he asked. “Where did you go?”

“Boston.” And there was something that Teddy was missing, because that didn’t explain Bill’s reaction. “But I did my undergrad at Princeton.” And _that_ was it, and Teddy laughed aloud.

“Oh, _did_ you now?” Shades of green and red, flickering memories of face paint and jerseys and yelling himself hoarse at hockey games flashed through Teddy’s mind. “Are we allowed to hang out, in that case, or do we need to draw a dividing line down the hallway?”

Billy was laughing with him, his eyes alight and warm and _damn_. “Not sure yet; I think I need to know more.” He was gorgeous, in a way that was already sinking into Teddy’s bones and becoming a simple fact of nature. The earth revolved around the sun. Water was wet. And Bill Kaplan was beautiful when he smiled. “You grew up in New York. Mets or Yankees?”

“Mets. You?”

Bill booed at him and shook his head in mock despair. “And I was starting to like you, Altman. Yankees.” Was he leaning in a little? Standing a little closer? “More importantly – and I saw you carrying a Forbidden Planet bag this morning, so no denial allowed – Marvel or DC?” He flickered an eyebrow up, waiting for an answer.

“Pfft,” Teddy scoffed. “Ask a silly question. Marvel. Let me guess,” he turned a little so he was facing Bill fully now, arms folded across his chest. He couldn’t help the flickered glance he gave at Bill’s lips, couldn’t help trying to read his body language for clues- _are you flirting, I want you to be flirting; I want-_ “Three strikes and I’m out?”

“Redeemed at the last possible moment,” Bill said with a laugh. “Though you’re still down two to one.”

Teddy could easily spend a couple of hours just staring into those eyes, and something about the way Bill was looking back at him suggested that he might not be entirely averse to that idea. “Damn. I’ll have to find some way to earn those points back.” His heart was starting to jackhammer in his chest, like he was a kid who’d never asked anyone out before- “I’d offer to get you a coffee, but it looks like you’re covered there for now.” That was casual enough that it could just be a friendly thing; if he was wrong, if Bill was straight-

"Um.” Bill was shifting back, looking a little ... something. Nervous? _Shit._ “I've got to be at a Masters' defense in ten minutes. But there's a group of us that grab lunch at the faculty club most Fridays. You should come next week; meet some of the department before the term starts."

He phrased it casually, but his smile had slipped a little and he was watching Teddy and worrying at his lip nervously, like it mattered whether Teddy said yes or not, like it mattered _personally_ -

The warmth inside edged out toward his fingers and toes, grabbed something in the vicinity of Teddy’s gut and gave it a good squeeze. _Stay cool, you big dork._ "Sure, I'd like tha-"

Bill was letting out a puff of air and the tension in his shoulders relaxed, and-

"Ted!" His head whipped around at the sound of his name. Darcy Lewis was bopping along the hallway, long brown waves bouncing with every cheerful step. "Teddy! Or do you hate that too? God knows I hate it when people call me 'Dar,' like 'Darcy' isn't short enough? Anyway, tall blond and handsome, are you ready to take me to lunch? I'm signed out for the hour, and time's a-wasting."

Caught entirely off-guard, Teddy stammered out “Yeah, sure – absolutely.”

Was it his imagination, or had Bill deflated slightly?

“Right,” Bill nodded, slung his bag over his shoulder. “I have to go sit on a committee, and you have to go to lunch. I’ll catch up with you some other time. Hey, Darcy.”

“I’ll be there Friday,” Teddy stepped back into the hall as Bill let the door fall shut behind them. All he got in response was a little wave, and the back of Bill’s head. He’d missed something again, something vitally important.

Darcy slid her hand securely into the crook of Teddy’s elbow, already chattering away at a mile a minute. He looked down at her, tucked in against his side, and- oh. _Oh._

They turned to leave, and Teddy chanced a glance back over his shoulder. Bill was walking away, more slowly now, hands in his pockets and his shoulders a little slumped.

 _Wait-_ Teddy wanted to call back, _this isn’t what you think, I-_  but Darcy was pulling him in one direction and Bill was walking in the other and there was no way to do it without making a scene. Teddy let Darcy tug him down the hall towards the front door.

\--

“’Kate’ would be Kate Bishop,” Darcy said around a mouthful of samosa, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t currently occupied. “She’s our other medievalist, technically, but she’s primarily a legal historian. Her dad’s _that_ Bishop.” She gestured at the atrium, the glass windows that let light into the library stacks rising high around them on three sides, sunlight filtering down through the skylights. It took Teddy a moment to remember what she could be talking about- _right. Bishop Memorial Library_. _Jesus._ “But she doesn’t deserve half of the shit she gets for it around here. No matter what you hear, that girl’s not a nepotism hire.”

Teddy nodded, filed that away with the sinking feeling that he should be taking notes. “And she’s writing a book with Bill Kaplan?”

“Yup. Witches and witch trials are hot stuff right now, I guess. I was a PolySci major, so what do I know?” She shrugged, her gesture ridiculous considering she’d just spent the better part of the campus tour filling him in on about twenty years worth of back gossip. “And then the last one on the first floor is Eli. He’s modern US history, mostly military stuff, but because he’s junior fac he gets most of the shit survey courses and eight-am class times. Just like you will.” And she flashed those dimples at him again.

“I don’t mind the morning lectures, honestly,” Teddy admitted, sitting back from his own empty tray. “They’re a nice split between the really eager students who actually do the readings, and the slackers who waited too long to register and then never actually show up. It makes for a decent class size.”

Darcy laughed at that, and poked him. “I knew I liked you, Ted. You’re, like, all cuddly on the outside, stealth evil on the inside.”

“I’m a multi-faceted guy.”

Maybe it was because his mind was still partly elsewhere, maybe it was because he was no good at reading signals from girls, but her next question caught him off-guard. 

“So, Doctor Evil, how would you feel about grabbing a drink sometime? Or do you not date within your department?”

Ted blanched, a rush of _awkward_ and _oops_ and _aw shit_ flooding through him before he could reply. She waved him off, picking up on the expression on his face, and only looked a little stung. “Never mind. I should have guessed. A guy like you doesn’t stay single. Girlfriend?”

He found his voice again, shook his head. “No. No girlfriend. I’m single, but. I’m gay.”

“Ohhhh,” and Darcy brightened up a little, losing the disappointment that had flashed across her face for a second and dimmed her smile. “That’s cool. That’s the ultimate ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ isn’t it?” she laughed and he relaxed again, grabbed his drink to take a sip and give himself time to regroup. (Conversations with Darcy seemed like they were going to require that on a regular basis.) At least he hadn’t offended her.

“Wait…” she stared at him with narrowed eyes that held an unsettling gleam. “I totally cock-blocked you with Bill Kaplan earlier, didn’t I?”

Soda up the nose was not one of life’s most enjoyable experiences.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, not apologetic in the slightest. “But it’s probably for the best,” she continued in a more serious vein after a moment, once he’d stolen her napkins to dab the wet off the front of his shirt. “I think he’s got a -”

_Girlfriend, of course he’d have a girlfriend; it was Teddy’s absolute knack for picking the wrong guy every time. Either they were straight, or-_

“- boyfriend. I’m pretty sure they’re still together, anyway. Or together again? Something like that.”

“Boyfriend?” Teddy looked up sharply. Not straight, but apparently not available, either. _If it’s not one, it’s the other. Figures._

“Mmm-hmm.” Darcy busied herself with the last few fries on her plate. “This guy Nate- something. Richards. Cute, if a bit uptight. Bill brings him to all the department events.”

He wasn’t upset, Teddy insisted silently, the sinking feeling in his gut putting the lie to it. Bill was good looking. _Ridiculously good-looking_.

_Stop that._

Bill was friendly, and that was a good thing when it came to co-workers. And maybe they’d been flirting a bit, and so what if they were? Attraction didn’t mean you followed through with anything. Lots of people were flirty out of habit, not because they meant to do anything about it.

And he could keep telling himself all sorts of versions of that, and none of it would make a difference to that tangled sense of disappointment sitting low on top of the greasy club sandwich that had been his lunch.

“Oh. What sort of events?” he asked, seizing the chance to turn the conversation away from Bill Kaplan and his long-term boyfriend. _Nate. What kind of stupid name was ‘Nate,’ anyway?_

“All kinds of stuff.” She took the hint, thank god, and let him change the subject with little more than a flicker of an eyebrow to show that she’d noticed. “Welcome-back wine and cheese; that’s in September. Luke and Jess – not Latin Studies Jess, Luke’s wife Jess - host a Hallowe’en party every year; most of the faculty and a lot of the grad students go to that. There’s a holiday potluck after exam period, but you can come even if you don’t bring food...”

He sat back and tried to concentrate on what she was saying, let Darcy’s cheerful patter wash over him, drown out the thoughts of a rolling tenor laugh and the image of deep brown eyes.

\--

Without the enforced regimen of lectures to keep them to a timetable, it was reasonably easy to avoid Bill after that. It wasn’t that he was annoyed; it was that he had a lot to do to get ready for the term. It only made sense to keep his door closed and his head down and plough his way through his preps, to be a Real Grownup and focus on work before socialization.

Mind you, working would be a lot easier if he had a chair to sit on instead of his last box of books.

E-mailing Facilities was getting him nowhere; he had the mental image of some funny little gnome sitting in the back office deleting every email that came in with his name on it. He only tried phoning once, and got thrown into an electronic system that flipped him to four mailboxes before he found one that would actually let him leave a message, then disconnected him before he could get four words in.

The faculty lounge was a small room tucked in behind the department office. It was colourfully furnished with a couple of old overstuffed couches that must have come from someone’s grandmother’s basement. The rest of the furniture wasn’t much newer, a table and plastic chairs by the counter with the sink and coffeemaker, a couple of armchairs that didn’t match the couches, and one decent office chair that had probably been abandoned when someone moved offices.

At least one thing was going his way.

Teddy wheeled the chair back down along the hall to his office, returning Darcy’s cheerful wave through the office window. He shoved the box out of the way and sank into the chair instead, kicked back and put his feet up on his desk just _because_.

The chair creaked and wobbled and he dropped his feet in a rush to avoid tipping over backwards. He pinwheeled his arms, glad as anything that he’d closed the door so no-one would see if he ended up on his ass.

If that wasn’t the perfect metaphor for his month so far, he didn’t want to know what was.

For now, though. _Chair._ You took your victories where you could.

_\--_

The faculty club wasn’t a club, exactly; more like a lunchroom with pretensions. The dark wood trim and long banquet tables suggested a slightly more illustrious history, but the bored bartender and disinterested student waiters weren’t doing much to help the atmosphere.

He’d avoided this the previous week, but it was time to take Bill up on his offer of the group lunch. It wasn’t as though he could avoid him forever, just because Teddy had gone and done something dumb like getting a crush on a guy who was unavailable. _Not like that was anything new, right Ted?_ They were going to have to work together, which meant he was going to have to get over it. And fast.

Although maybe it wasn’t going to be an issue today; so far Kate, Teddy and Eli were the only ones at the table, and Kate had only shrugged when Eli had asked about Bill. Teddy had liked Eli from the moment they’d been introduced at the first department meeting. He was straightforward, said what he thought. You didn’t have to wonder where you stood with a guy like that.

Kate was exactly the powerhouse that Darcy had described, and while Teddy still didn’t quite have a read on her, she wasn’t bad company. _So far, so good._

“Not even a ‘revise and resubmit,’ for god’s sake. Rejected! I haven’t had an article rejected since I was an undergrad.” Kate was expounding at length, fingers tapping irritably on the table between them. Eli was nodding sympathetically but Teddy was only half paying attention, the other half certainly _not_ watching the door for signs of Bill.

Or his twin, for that matter. What was Tom doing here?

“Hey, ladies. And Ted.” Tom Shepherd slid into the booth beside Kate, cutting her off halfway through a sentence. Bill was trailing behind him and looking a little woebegone. He didn’t quite meet Teddy’s eyes when he said hello, but Ted put out his hand anyway. Bill’s grip was just like it had been last week, warm and strong, and lingering there maybe a half-second too long before Teddy remembered himself and pulled away.

“What’s up?” Bill asked, sliding into the booth across from Teddy, and Eli gestured for the hovering waitress.

“Kate’s feeling the sting of rejection,” Eli said, and Billy frowned.

“Which article came back?”

“The Yorkshire one,” she griped, as if that meant something. It obviously did to Bill, because he shook his head.

“That one was solid; what was the issue?”

“One stupid reviewer savaged everything from my methodology to my sample sizes,” she muttered, and frowned at Bill with sudden suspicion. “You’d tell me if you ended up with one of my articles, wouldn’t you?”

“And violate the integrity of the double-blind process?” Tom teased, pretending to be shocked. “Kate Bishop, are you corrupting my little brother?”

“She leaves that to you,” Eli shot back, and the vaguely hostile vibe between them that didn’t seem entirely feigned. Tom laid his arm across the back of the booth bench, grazing Kate’s shoulder, and Eli gave him a dirty look.

_Ah._

“I’m looking at the thirteenth century. How many plea rolls does she think actually survived to the present day?” The waitress sat a basket of bread rolls down between them and Kate tore into one with delicate savagery.  “I can’t get a larger sample size if they don’t exist! Oh _wait_ , I know. I’ll get Dr. Stark to build me a time machine, so I can go back and prevent the Great Fire of London from happening.”

Teddy laughed despite himself, and won a smile from Bill for his troubles. The look shouldn’t make him feel that good, he reminded himself sharply. _Boyfriend._ _Out of bounds._

“They must have pulled a modern historian in to make a full review committee,” Bill said, flashing a grin at Eli, who rolled his eyes. “Please. If you can call your primary sources on the telephone, it’s not history; it’s politics and current events. You guys have it easy.”

Eli shook his head in mock exasperation. “Don’t you start with me, witch boy.”

“Don’t hate just because my research is currently hot, and relevant to the zeitgeist.”

“War is _always_ relevant.”

The conversation held the flavour of old argument and easy familiarity. Teddy tried to soothe his jitters with sips of water and the collegiality, the rapport between old friends that would hopefully someday include him. That he was sitting across from Bill and their feet brushed occasionally, well. That was something he wasn’t paying attention to. Devoutly. 

\--

They’d lingered over lunch in a way that wouldn`t be possible once the term officially started, and it was a good two hours before Teddy finally got back to his office.

There was a note on his desk. That was the second thing he noticed.

The first was that someone had stolen his chair. His lovely fake-leather chair that he had rightfully swiped. The springs were suspect and it had the rip in the corner, and it had most emphatically not been a large, crumpling cardboard box full of books. 

The note was on written on a large green post-it with a happy face printed on the top.

_Lounge chairs must stay in the lounge._

The note was written in sparkly purple pen.

_Thanks for your compliance._

_CB, Facilities Management_

 

Teddy growled at the note. _Thanks for your compliance, my_ ass _._

He pulled the box out of the corner and sat down gingerly on the edge. It sank in a little bit under his weight, and he shifted to stay stable. He grabbed a pen out of his chipped Big Green mug and drew a careful stroke through the date on his desk calendar. August 31st.

Three weeks down.  Four days until his first lecture, nine months of classes to go.

One day at a time. 


	2. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which classes begin and Teddy meets Nate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With love and thanks to my beta, feebleapb! All errors are mine, not hers. And definitely don't blame Tzu for any of this, as she's taking a very well-deserved Christmas break.

**_Labor Day Holiday – Monday, September 3_ **

**_Fall Classes Begin – Tuesday, September 4_ **

**_Grad/Fac  Seminar (speaker: Dr. J. Van Dyne) –  Friday, September 21_ **

**_Welcome Back Reception – Friday, September 28_ **

****

Campus filled up rapidly in the last week of August, and Teddy was running into (and sometimes over) chanting, cheering groups of freshmen in color-coded t-shirts everywhere he turned. Tuesday morning at stupid-o-clock, though, the quad and the hallways were suspiciously silent. It had made it easy to grab a chair from one of the open classrooms and drag it into his office. But now he could have used some noise, just for the distraction.

Teddy double (triple)-checked his bag before he locked his office door behind him. Laptop, projector key, lecture notes, syllabus. Student services handouts. Textbook list and recommended readings.

Lecture notes? Lecture notes. Laptop. Power cable. Lecture notes.

“If you’re searching for Atlantis, you’re in the wrong building,” Bill said behind him, sounding sleepy and warm.

“Why would I be looking for Atlantis in my book bag?” That was about the only thing Ted could think of to say as he turned, his mouth going dry. It was the first time he’d seen Bill in anything but jeans and a t-shirt, and _hot damn_. The white button-down made his skin glow even more golden by contrast in the morning light, and the dark dress pants sat a little low on the hips that Teddy was absolutely not allowing himself to look at. He had the leather bag he always carried hanging off one shoulder, and the cup of coffee in his hand was the size of a small bathtub.

Bill shrugged, flushed a little under the scrutiny. “I – uh. Archetypical lost thing, and you were searching in your bag for a while. It made more sense in my head. My coffee is all still in my cup,” he finished plaintively.

 _Not a morning person._ Teddy added that fact to the list of things he knew about Bill, along with _hates his glasses_ and _chews the corner of his thumbnail when he’s worried_.

“It’s early. Do you have a class this morning?” Teddy wanted to ask about the ragged cuticles on both Bill’s thumbs. He steered the conversation back onto safer ground instead.

“Committee meeting, because the Senate is full of sadists.”

Teddy made a face in sympathy. “I’ll have to find something myself for next term, if I want to have any kind of a service record by the time I get to my review. How did you end up on a Senate committee?”

“Seniority,” Bill explained, then, “as in, I have none.” His mouth twisted up in the wry smile that Teddy had seen on Tom before. “No-one else in the department wanted it, and they needed a History rep. Kate’s not allowed on the Senate anymore; she spent her year doodling elaborate death traps in the margins of the meeting agendas. And Eli’s already on three: library procurement, and residence council, and something to do with the United Way.”

Teddy whistled low. “Wow. Do you think he’s compensating for something?” he joked, more at ease with Bill after a couple of weeks and only a handful of meetings than either of them had a right to be. But it was so good on a soul-deep level to have someone to laugh with, to know that there was a chance at building a friendship ( _friendship. Good word)_ that would last longer than the length of a degree program.

He’d been picking up and moving away from people his entire life.

Bill laughed, shook his head. “I don’t think he sleeps. Eli’s, how do you say, _dedicated_.” He tucked his free hand in his pocket, shuffled his feet a little. He changed the subject. “You have your first lecture this morning, don’t you? Are you worried?”

Teddy shrugged, aiming for ‘unconcerned’ and landing somewhere in the vicinity of ‘helpless.’ “I’ve taught before. I was an adjunct at Dartmouth, when I was ABD and for a year after I finished. This isn’t entirely new.”

“Still, it can’t hurt to wish you luck. So, um. Good luck.” Bill smiled at him, and Teddy smiled back. The world narrowed in that moment to the two of them, and the sunlight through the windows, and the empty hall. The tangled, jangling nerves in Teddy’s gut quieted and uncoiled.

He had to break the moment, he _needed_ to break the moment. “Shouldn’t it be ‘break a leg’ or something?” Teddy asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder and rocking back on one heel.

The energy was gone. Bill looked down at his coffee as though surprised to see it there, and he took an experimental sip. “Break them both,” he offered, casual now and friendly as ever. “You’ll be great.”

\--

Of course the first class had to be the big one, not the tidy little seminar of grad students and eager seniors that could ease him in to things. He stared out at the sea of faces, expressions ranging from blank and bored through to disinterested, and one who was actually already asleep, and his gut clenched. Thank god for skipping breakfast, except for the coffee that Darcy had stuck in his hands, because he was close to 99% certain that it would all be coming up into the garbage can in the corner right about… now.

The clock hand moved. Five past the hour. He used the three seconds that it took to cross the floor and close the lecture hall door to take a deep breath. And the trip back to take a second one.

No problem.

“Uh. Hi. I’m Dr. Altman. And if you’re not here for The Rise of European Civilization, you’re in the wrong classroom, and probably didn’t need to set your alarm quite so early. So for anyone still feeling the effects of Frosh Week, my apologies.” There was a gentle ripple of laughter from a couple of corners of the room, the sleeper sat up with a yawn, and the knot in Teddy’s gut loosened a little.

_You’ll be great._

He took a deep breath. First-day rush of stage fright or no, he was going to be fine. He picked up the stack of photocopies.

“I’ll start the syllabus around the room; take one and pass it along. While you’re doing that, let me tell you a bit about what we’re going to be discussing this term...”

\--

He could breathe more easily after leaving the lecture hall. A handful of students trailed him as far as the main floor, and their chatter and questions let him relax that last little bit. He hadn’t thrown up or tripped, and only a couple of students had been obviously Tweeting or playing on Facebook instead of listening. _Excellent_ ratio. Especially for the first day.

The department office and the hallway that led back to the lounge were buzzing with activity. He could remember most of the names from the department meeting, thank goodness; up until now, the only faces he’d seen on any kind of regular basis had been those with offices beside his. This was much less formal, conversations clustered by the coffee pot, Pepper’s desk, or the photocopier.

“Watch out,” Kate touched his arm lightly and smiled as she passed by, a tote bag over her arm and the jeans she’d worn in August traded in for slacks and a sleek blouse. “Luke’s got baby pictures. If you have anywhere to be in the next half hour, steer clear.”

“I like babies,” Teddy replied with a half-hearted shrug. But Luke had Pepper and Darcy trapped at their desks while he gestured excitedly over something on his cell phone, and the look of mild despair on Darcy’s face was enough to drive the point home.

“Jess! You’re back! How was your sabbatical?” Darcy made her escape, brushing past Ted on her way to the door.

Teddy stepped to the side and emptied the stack of flyers and envelopes out of his mailbox as chatter picked up around him. _Trivia night at the student pub, course offerings for January term, Trans-awareness_ kiss-a-thon _?_

Jessica Drew, busty and dark-haired, laughed behind him and stopped to answer Darcy’s question. “I think I have black mold in my lungs from the archives in Madrid, I had a bad reaction to the anti-malarials in Boa Vista, and my bag got lost on three different continents.”

“But it was productive?”

“I did three conferences, got four papers out and found about half the records I need for my next book – which is about twice what I thought I’d actually get. It was _fantastic._ ”

Carol gestured from her perch by the coffee machine, blonde hair tied back into a twisted bun and the coffee pot in her hand. Jessica crossed to give her a warm hug. “Good to have you back.”

“So who’s around this year? I’ve met the new guy-“ Jess waved at Teddy, fully aware that he was half-listening to the conversations circling around him. He waved back, tucked the mail he actually needed to keep into his bag.

“The only one on sabbatical is Barnes,” Carol wrapped her hands around her mug. “He’s doing a thing at Munich.”

“Aw, that’s good. He needed a break.”

“Bucky Barnes is the only member of the department fully qualified with an AK-47,” Darcy grinned as she passed on that tidbit of gossip. She bumped Teddy with her hip as she squeezed past, slotted a handful of documents into some of the mailboxes on the wall. “He’s a vet,” she added, at Teddy’s blink of surprise.

“And if you think that would be enough to stop the little punks from talking during his classes,” a familiar, short and scruffy man grumbled, as he grabbed the stack of papers from the mailbox next to Ted’s, “you’d be dead wrong.” He looked Teddy up and down – mostly up; Ted had to have a good six inches of height on him – and nodded. “Logan,” he extended a hand.

“Ted Altman,” Teddy replied, shaking Logan’s hand, tried to match the firmness of his grip without turning it into a pissing contest. “But I think I remember that; you were on my hiring committee. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, kid,” Logan scowled, a look that Ted was beginning to think was his default expression. “Rogers made the final call.”

Steve looked up from his laptop at the sound of his name, caught mid hunt-and-peck. “Whatever I just got blamed for, I deny everything. As I am no longer department chair, any problems can be directed to Carol.” And he pointed at her with one thick finger.

“Did I just get thrown under the bus?” Carol asked, raising an eyebrow at Jess.

Jessica nodded. “That was a very definite bus-throwing.”

“I admit nothing,” Steve replied, turning back to his document.

“Still sure you want to thank me, kid?” Logan cocked his head, and there was something that might have been a smile flickering around the corners of his face for a moment before it was gone.

Teddy smiled for real, nodding in reply. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Hang on to that feeling.” And then Logan was gone without waiting for a reply. He slammed a hat on his head and elbowed his way past the office door and out into the main hall.

\--

“Because I need a second opinion, that’s why.” Darcy swung her leg out from under her desk and poked Teddy in the knee, and he looked down at her with a dubious frown.

"I'm not going to be your 'sassy gay neighbor,' Darce, whatever the sitcoms promised you. I barely shop for clothes for myself." Teddy looked askance at her across her desk, mail still in his hand.

"Please; I've already got one of those," she waved him off, then pinned him with a look. "But you're new in town, and I bet you could use a sassy straight friend. At least until you build a proper posse of your own."

"Are you offering to be a friendship _booty call_?" She was oddly fascinating, and he couldn't even bring himself to smack her hand as she reached for the box of donut holes he was carrying.

"I am. Just be warned. If you call at 3 am, you better be dying, in jail, or bringing me someone who actually likes tits."

\--

**[Paper jam]**

**[Call for service]**

“There is no paper jam,” Teddy informed the office photocopier. He scowled at it. The red light refused to turn back to green. He opened the side door one more time, flipped down the panels on the end, turned the little blue handle that sent the rollers spinning and puffed black dust into the air. There was no paper inside.

Close the panels, shut the door, hit the button-

**[Paper jam]**

“The paper jam is a lie.”

**[Paper jam]**

Teddy growled. He jabbed at the reset button, and the machine shuddered to a halt, and the electronic whine stopped.

It powered back up, with the red light still flashing. He could swear the little beeps it was making had taken on the sound of laughter. Evil, evil laughter.

Teddy kicked it, right in the side where it would hurt. “Give. Me. My. Handouts. You stupid. Piece. Of junk!”

“We usually try and hold off on the percussive maintenance until at least midterms,” Kate’s voice in his ear made him stumble. He turned, catching himself before he actually lost his balance.

“What happened?” Eli leaned over to look at the screen, the stack of pages in the intake feed, the crumpled mess of papers that had been what the copier spat out.

“I’m trying to copy some things for tomorrow,” Teddy forced his shoulders down, bit back the rude words he’d been about to level in the copier’s general direction. “But it keeps saying there’s a paper jam. Which-“ he held up his hand to forestall the questions, “there isn’t. I checked.”

“Sometimes there can be just a corner of something stuck in the roller,” Eli suggested, frowning at the machine.

Kate dropped to a crouch. “Or a page not feeding properly from the drawer. Did you try opening it?”

“Nothing that I could see and yes I did, but you’re welcome to try again.” Teddy shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to feel ridiculous, glared at the photocopier once for good measure as Kate started opening pieces of the system.

“Is that piece of junk broken again?” Bill had stopped by the mailboxes and watched them for a minute before drifting closer. “Do you have time to wait for Darcy or Pepper to get back from lunch? Pepper’s pretty good at this sort of thing.”

“I tried to use the hole-punch function, and that’s when it all went to hell.”

“It keeps flashing ‘paper jam’ and ‘call for service,’ but doesn’t give a number for the service.”

“Hang on – sometimes it works if you take the ink cartridge out and put it back in-“

Ten minutes later they had half the machine unlatched or sitting open, had poked every button (some twice) and the screen was still flashing ‘call for service.’

“How many post-secondary degrees does it take to fix a copier?” Teddy asked rhetorically, scratching his head.

Kate groaned. “Twelve and counting, apparently.”

“Thirteen.” Eli shrugged when they stared at him. “I got a second MA in Sociology before doing my PhD.”

Billy snorted. “Overachiever.”

“Kate?” The blonde girl who stepped into the office wasn’t someone Teddy knew. He looked up from the paper towel he was using to try and get the ink smears off of his hands, and got a friendly smile in response. “You weren’t in your office-“ she continued, trailing off when she looked down, to where Kate was sitting on the floor and arguing with Eli.

Kate stood and glanced at her watch, then winced. “Oh, Cassie; damn. I’m sorry! I lost track of time. Is it our meeting now?”

“About five minutes ago.”

“What happened to the photocopier?” The guy behind Cassie was about average build and soft-spoken, and he peered at the copier as though he were trying to make sense of the mess they’d made.

“The ever useful ‘paper jam,’” Bill replied, shrugging helplessly. “Hey, guys.”

The small office was way too cramped with six people in it now and Teddy tried to move out of the way. He ended up squashed beside Cassie, half-sitting on Pepper’s desk, as her boyfriend – “Jonas,” Kate had introduced him, “and Cassie, my PhD student,” – gave the photocopier a once-over.

“So you’re the new guy?” Cassie asked, tipping her head up to look at him. “I heard there was someone coming in this year.”

“That’s me,” Teddy nodded, and extended his hand. “And you’re working with Kate?”

Cassie nodded, and shook his hand with a firmer grip than he’d expected. “I was in Classics originally, but I switched programs and got Kate as my advisor when my research started creeping forward. There’s just a lot more material for me to work with when you get into eras with surviving written records, you know?”

He nodded. Over on the other side of the office Eli was giving Jonas a set of elaborate instructions, which Jonas appeared to be ignoring. He turned something inside the machine, then started closing drawers.

“How much longer have you got to go? The dreaded question,” Teddy asked with a grin.

“It’s not bad, actually,” Cassie laughed, tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ve just got one chapter left, and Kate figures I can defend in the spring.”

“That’s excellent.”

“Very.”

The copier beeped and hummed as Jonas pushed a button, and it began shooting out fresh pages at some ridiculous rate. “That’s great!” Teddy exclaimed, and rose to his feet. “How did you do that?”

“You simply have to talk to them nicely,” Jonas commented quietly, and he gave the copier a gentle pat.

“I’ll try and remember that,” Teddy sighed.

The copier beeped, as though it had heard them.

\--

Teddy turned the projector off with a small sigh of relief, and tapped his lecture notes into a tidy pile. A student was winding her way to the front of the room through the hubbub of the class emptying out, and he paused in his packing to wait for her.

“Hey, Doctor A,” she greeted him with a grin, and snapped her gum. “Some of us were talking? And, like, it would be better if you hole-punched the handouts first? For next time? Because now we have to do it ourselves? It would be so much easier.”

Teddy bit his tongue hard enough to see stars. Hard enough to stop himself from saying what first came to mind.

He nodded, instead, with a tight smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

\--

“Thank you all for coming, and please thank our guest speaker, Doctor van Dyne, for her excellent paper today.” There was a smattering of applause from the faculty and grad students seated in the classroom. Janet gathered up her papers, turned to talk to Carol as everyone else in the room began to stretch, murmur amongst themselves, and pack up.

“Beer at the grad house,” someone called out, Teddy couldn’t identify who, and Eli nudged him before he could stand.

“Come with us,” Eli invited him. “You’ve been going non-stop for a couple of weeks now.”

“I was thinking about just going home and crashing,” Teddy hesitated, watched Bill pack up his bag on the other side of the room. Bill, Kate and Cassie had slipped in late, and they’d been passing notes between themselves like grade school kids through most of the seminar.

Eli tucked his notebook in his bag and shrugged. “Suit yourself. But it is just a little bit pathetic to be sitting at home alone on a Friday night.” Teddy looked up, sharp words on his tongue, but Eli’s eyes were laughing and Teddy relaxed into a smile. “Come on. It’s not like you have a dog you have to let out, do you? Even I take a break sometimes.”

He should go; he had lectures to write and a paper to revise, and there weren’t enough hours in the day already. Eli stared him down, one eyebrow slightly arched, and Teddy wavered. “I don’t know about that; I think I’d have to see, like, actual proof.”

“I’ve got a Call of Duty high score that’ll tell you way too much about how I spend some of my weekends.”

One beer, that was what Teddy ended up agreeing to. One beer, some networking with the guest lecturer, and then he’d go.

Which explained why, four pints and three hours later, Teddy was sprawled out in a booth at the back of the grad house, staring into Bill Kaplan’s eyes.

‘Grad house’ was a misnomer. The on-campus bar was open to anyone, technically, and took up most of the basement of one of the new buildings. But it had been a pub for older students in a ramshackle stone house at one point in the distant past, and so ‘grad house’ the name had stayed. It was half-dark, the latest pitcher was half-full, and the plate of nachos that someone had ordered for their table was gone except for a few scrapes of cheese on the plate. Kate was across the room now, steadily demolishing what was left of Eli’s ego at the dart board, and Teddy couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking.

“She died just after my sophomore year; I was sixteen.” He was explaining, and Bill was listening, arm resting on the back of the booth. He’d asked about Oregon, and Teddy had answered, and now he couldn’t seem to shut up. “It was cancer. My uncle is out in Portland, and he came back for a while, to help me take care of her. I moved to live with him and my aunt afterwards.”

His beer was fascinating, amber and gold swirling in the bottom of his glass, when he moved it just so. It was better than remembering, so much better than the smell of disinfectant that had taken weeks to scrub off of his skin, or the memory of her eyes at the very end, glazed over and the light vanishing.

“I’m sorry-“ Bill laid a hand on his arm and Teddy snapped out of it.

“No, it’s okay. It was a long time ago; I don’t mind talking about it. I think I’m just a little-“ he frowned at his glass, which was empty. It hadn’t been empty a minute ago. “I’m officially cutting myself off,” he announced, and pushed the glass away.

Bill’s lips twitched in a grin, and Teddy’s attention redirected itself. “So your family,” Teddy started, turning to face Bill in the booth and pulling one leg under him. “Tom’s your twin? But you have different last names. And you’re not married, so you didn’t change yours-?” that was more of a leading question than a statement. He was allowed. “Parents had a messy divorce?” he suggested, and that indeed sounded like a viable option.

Bill shook his head, though. “No. At least, mine didn’t. It’s a long story. Let me explain,” he paused, shook his head, put on the accent. “No, there is too much. Let me sum up.” Teddy laughed, and Bill grinned back, and the world was magical.

“Tom and I were adopted by different families,” Billy continued in his normal voice. “We didn’t actually know about each other until we were teenagers. I turned eighteen and put my name on the adoption registry; you know, to see if your birth family is looking for you? And it turned out Tommy had as well. It was kind of mind-blowing.”

“That’s nuts,” Teddy contributed, trying to imagine what that would be like. He had no frame of reference for siblings at all, though, never mind a surprise twin. “Did you ever find your birth parents?”

“Yeah.” Billy was quiet for a minute and a cloud settled over his face, and didn’t Teddy just feel like the biggest shit in the world for being the cause of that? “That’s the long part of ‘long story,’ though, and it’s not a happy-ending kind of thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Teddy backpedalled. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No. It’s fine. My family – the Kaplans, my real family – are great. And Tom and I have each other now, which makes up for a lot.”

They were back on steady ground and Teddy’s curiosity was overwhelming. “You must be fraternal twins, considering your hair and eyes and all-”

 “You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Bill shook his head and he was a little bit distant now. “We did this test to find out, back when we first met. Our coloring aside, we’re genetically identical. I mean, there are a few differences – he’s straight, for one. But we’re both right-handed.” Bill shrugged, like he’d said it all before.

And he probably had, Teddy realized with a certain amount of guilt. But he’d also just come out, even if it was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, and his eyes were flickering over Teddy’s face, searching for something. He kept talking, though, and whatever the moment had been, it was gone.

“It all seems to boil down to ‘just one of those things.’” Bill brought his own glass to his lips. “Xavier over in genetics keeps badgering us to sign up for one of his twin studies, but Tommy’s not interested in being a lab rat.”

“You can’t really blame him for that,” Teddy said, the fuzz in his brain starting to recede. He picked up a glass of water from the table and sipped, the cold clarity refreshing. “It’s good that you guys-“

A phone rang, interrupting him, and Bill pulled his arm back quickly. He smiled as he slid out of the booth, a tight, apologetic grimace, tugging his phone out of his pocket as he went. “Hi-“ was all Teddy caught as Bill moved toward the door, one finger in his other ear.

“Ted! Come here and be social.” Darcy was hanging over the back of his booth a moment later, and within minutes he found himself smashed in against her side, along with Carol and others from the upper floors. Pepper had arrived at some point with a date, a goateed guy introduced as ‘Tony,’ who had twisted a paper clip and a pop-tab together into a tiny catapult and was using it to flick peanuts into Carol’s beer. Steve doodled Ted’s earrings on one of a growing stack of cocktail napkins by his elbow.

The last he saw of Bill that evening wasn’t long after that, as Teddy wound his way around the pool tables to get to the men’s room. Bill and Kate stood by the main door, and she was frowning at him. Teddy wasn’t close enough to jump in to the conversation, only close enough to catch a few words, and to see the tired hang of Billy’s shoulders.

“Are you sure about this?” Kate said, and she didn’t look convinced about ... whatever ‘this’ was... in the slightest.

“Am I ever?” Bill winced, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know you’re looking out for me, and I appreciate it. More than you know. But I have to try, Kate.”

He hugged her, then, and she smacked him in the head.

This was a private moment – as private as you could get in this place, anyway – and Teddy was eavesdropping. Any minute now they’d notice him and call him on it and it would be no end of awkward. Teddy turned away, and headed for the washroom.

Bill was long gone by the time Teddy got back to the tables (“he said to say goodbye for him - he had to go”), and the rest of the stragglers were packing up.

“Hi-yah,” Tony cheered, and sank his last peanut into Jessica’s glass from two tables away.

Teddy shouldered his bag and passed through the door, let the sultry late-summer air fill his lungs. He needed to stay out of things that weren’t his business. Just, go to work, enlighten and inspire young minds, do his thing, come home. Leave the complicated stuff to people who were better at drama than he was.

\--

The invitation to Kate’s poker night had said eight pm, and at about eight-oh-five Teddy knocked at her apartment door. Eli opened the door and he nodded when he saw Ted, stepped aside to let him in. Kate’s place was larger than Teddy had expected from the outside of the building, the condo decorated with furniture in sleek modern lines. Kate was from money – he’d half-forgotten that – and here was where it showed.

Kate’s head and shoulders were in the fridge when Teddy passed the kitchen door, and Tom Shepherd gave him a half-assed salute from his seat on the living room couch. It was still a bit eerie how much he looked – and didn’t look – like his brother. Teddy could see the places where they were different, now, beyond the hair and eyes, but he still half-expected Bill’s easy laugh to come out of Tom instead of the wry chuckle Tom seemed to favor.

“Bill’s not coming?” Ted asked casually, dropping into a chair across from Tommy.

“Hey, Ted,” Kate greeted him as she came out of the kitchen, her hands full. Eli rescued the drinking glasses from her and she ducked back in for a second.

“He’s putting in some face time with the boyfriend.” And the scorn and sense of vague disgust in Tom’s voice was enough to put up every one of Teddy’s hackles.

“You have a problem with Bill being gay?” he asked, his voice quiet and steady. Kate went still, her eyes on Teddy, and Eli frowned as he took his seat.

“Oh yeah, as if,” Tom scoffed, and Teddy forced the defensive reaction away. “I’m utterly down with Billy being on the dick patrol. I have a problem with him being gay for _that_ guy. Nate is a douche.”

“He’s practically your brother in law,” Eli said pointedly, picking up the deck of cards and rapping them tightly on the table.

“All the more reason to hate him,” Tom replied easily. “Isn’t that the rule for in-laws?”

“I’m just about the last person to say lay off,” Kate set four beer bottles on the table, “but in this case... lay off. They’ve got a lot of history, and it’s hard to let that go. They’ve been together since what, high school?”

Tom grabbed a bottle and twisted off the top, his fingers drumming on the neck. “Undergrad. And all that _history_ is a big part of why my little brother was sleeping on my couch all summer.”

“He was?” Teddy frowned, feeling utterly at sea and entirely out of the loop. ‘Boyfriend,’ Darcy had said, and he’d taken her at face value. But- “What happened?”

“Billy and Nate broke up for a while,” Kate frowned at Tom. “He crashed at Tom’s, and just moved back home last weekend.”

Then when they’d met, he’d assumed-

-          and Bill _had_ been single at the time-

And Teddy had done his best to keep Bill at arm’s length when he’d thought otherwise (not that his best had been much good, but-)

 _Godammit_.

 “Yeah, for all the good it’s going to do them.”

“Jesus, you guys are a pair of gossips. Can we let Bill’s private business stay private?”

“Deal the cards, then, grandma.”

Eli snorted. “My grandma could kick your ass in a heartbeat.”

Teddy could believe that, frankly. “What are we playing for?”

Kate slid into her seat and grabbed for the box of chips on the table, sending a handful of them skidding across the table toward him. “Bragging rights. Tom’s the only one who gets paid enough for anything else.”

“The sweet life outside the ivory tower,” Tom grinned. “No summers off, but an actual living wage. It’s a fair trade.”

A hour and a half later, Teddy had a decent stack of chips in front of him; not as high as Eli’s, but better than the others.

Kate stared at her cards. “Raise you five. His essay was four pages long and triple-spaced. In comic sans.”

Teddy groaned and shook his head while Tom scowled at his hand. “Could’ve been worse,” he offered, sorting his hand and watching for Tom’s tell.

“How?”

Eli’s mouth turned up at one corner. “I gave an assignment for my 300-level class last week. Six pages. One student turned in a paper that was three pages, double-spaced, in Papyrus. Inch and a half margins. With clip-art.”

“I can beat that,” Teddy chuckled. “Got a term paper in at my last job that was half the required length, eighty-percent block quotations with a couple of sentences stolen from Encyclopedia Britannica to link them, and ended with a note: ‘Dear Doctor Altman. I know this is too short, but I ran out of things to quote.’”

“That’s not a paper,” Eli folded, set his cards down on the table with a sigh. “That’s a cry for help.”

The clock read eleven as Tommy was gathering in his pile of chips from the last hand, and Kate pushed back her chair. “And I’m out. I’m too tired to think straight.” She started to gather up the glasses and bowls from the table and Teddy jumped to his feet to help her.

It wasn’t until she had him alone in the kitchen that Kate spoke again, folding her arms and leaning one hip against the kitchen counter. “You’ve got a thing for Bill.”

Teddy put all the energy he had into refusing to squirm. He managed to hold her gaze for a minute or two before he broke, and hung his head with a sheepish frown. “It’s that obvious?” He sighed.

She scoffed and he mock-glared at her. “Darcy told me that he had a boyfriend.” And that should be explanation enough. “I don’t – that’s not a ‘there’ I want to go.”

“Bill and Nate are a soap opera,” Kate said, her expression thoughtful. “Their last breakup was... explosive. But Billy’s a firm believer in second chances. And fourth and fifth ones.”

Of course he was. From where Teddy was standing, everything about Bill was pretty damn near perfect. Of _course_ he would add loyalty and devotion and forgiveness on top of it all.

“It sounds like the kind of mess it would be best to stay far away from,” he answered slowly, trying to ignore the lump setting into his gut again. At this rate, he should start charging it rent. “No matter how much I like him.”

Kate nodded and unfolded her arms, relaxed her stance. Her smile was a little preoccupied, but warm nevertheless. “You’re a good man, Ted Altman.”

Teddy sagged down with a groan. He leaned forward to bang his head once against the fridge and let it rest there, the quiet vibration soothing against his flushed skin. “I’m an idiot.”

\--

Teddy knew he was coming back to his office too late in the day when he saw the custodian’s cart parked outside his office door.

Janet (Jennet? Janice? Jane? He’d been introduced all of once and then promptly forgotten) came around once a week, and didn’t hold much truck with people being in the offices when she wanted to clean them. Student conference, phone call or in the middle of choking to death, it would be ‘feet up’ and ‘running the vacuum now’ and ‘don’t you dare set that mug down on that desk that I just wiped. Were you raised in a barn?’ It was easier for everyone to be long gone by Wednesdays at seven. 

She was taking his chair.

“Please leave that there,” he said, and Janis (Ja’nise?) turned to glare at him. Her graying hair was scraped back into a tight bun that made the look even more intimidating. She put her hands on her stout hips, and squared off.

“It belongs in the classroom, not your office.”

“I know,” he said as he came closer. “But I don’t have a chair in the office. And that one was extra.” 

“ _Mister_ Altman,” the custodian leveled him a look, and spoke carefully, like to a recalcitrant child. “That may be as how things were done at your _old_ school,” she drawled that last out long and slow, and he felt himself withering under her stare. “But around here, we have a _system_.”

He stopped just out of arm’s reach, and blinked. “A system?”

"You see this?" She pointed to a sticker on the underside of the chair, twisting it to show him exactly what she meant. There was a code printed on it. "This matches up with the number for classroom G14 in the inventory management system. If you take the chair out of G14, then the number of chairs no longer matches. Everything has to be right like it is in the system. Ms. Romanova is _very_ particular about the system."

“It’s just one chair.” Teddy had the distinct feeling that he was on the losing side of this already, and he wasn’t entirely sure how that had happened.

Janette shook her head and gave him a look of disdain. “There are over a thousand offices on this campus, Mister Altman; imagine what would happen if everyone took ‘just one chair.’ Thousands of chairs, gone, and who’ll think of the poor students then? You’d be sitting in your classrooms and calling us all the time, saying ‘we don’t have any classroom chairs! Where did all our chairs go?’ And that’s more hassle than _I_ get paid to deal with.”

“So you’re taking the chair.”

“I’m taking the chair.”

“What am I supposed to sit on?”

“Did you put in a procurement order?”

“Yes, but-“

“Then you’ll be receiving a chair. Proper channels, Mister Altman. That’s the only way to keep a campus of this size in order.”

She took the chair with her and pushed her cart down the hallway with her free hand. The dividing door closed behind her with a soft ‘thp’.

Teddy stared at the closed door in disbelief.

“It’s just a _chair._ ”

\--

Pepper had booked one of the lecture halls for the departmental welcome-back reception, and despite some initial trepidation, Teddy was actually enjoying himself. He had braced himself to paste on a fake smile and put in some face-time, but the whole thing wasn’t turning out to be nearly as excruciating as he’d been dreading. About half of the faculty had actually turned up, along with significant others and a good forty or fifty students. He had the suspicion that it was more the draw of the free food, mind you, than anything about department spirit that had gotten them in the door.

Noise spooled out around him as he moved through the crowd toward the drink table, snatches of conversation jumping out from the general hubbub.

"You hear that little bell ring? Somewhere in the world an undergrad has misapplied Foucault, and a new professor has gotten tenure..."

“...left a note stabbed to her door with a letter opener saying that ‘grading requirements were a cancer on the body of the academy,’ that knowledge was dead, and she was moving to Peru to raise llamas.”

“You’re going to AHA this year? _Why_?”

“It’s in New Orleans. I am _not_ missing this one, even if I have to be back in the classroom on Monday.”

By the time he made it across to the other side of the room and had a drink in his hand the smile on his face was genuine. Two months back in New York hadn’t netted him much in the way of close friends; anyone he’d gone to high school with was long gone themselves or had all-but-forgotten about the skinny little kid who’d vanished after sophomore year, pre-Facebook, pre-texting. They wouldn’t recognize him now.

It was probably a bad sign that the only people his age that he saw on any kind of regular basis were his co-workers. But there was a shared current of understanding here, a language and pool of experience that couldn’t be found anywhere else.

What was it that his aunt had always told him, that one day he would ‘find his tribe’? He’d found it and it was here, all around him; that feeling of _right_ -ness and belonging and an invisible puzzle piece slotting neatly into place.

Now all he had to do was not screw it up.

“So I was wondering,” Kitty said, and he tuned back in. “If you’d be interested in being my honors advisor? I know you don’t have any grad students yet, but I wasn’t sure if that was because you’re not allowed, as a first year prof, or because you didn’t have time.”

“It’s just that there weren’t any incoming students in my field this year,” Teddy said. “I’d be happy to. Come by during my office hours on Thursday and you can show me what you have in mind for a project.”

 He wasn’t scanning the room while he was talking, most certainly not looking for one dark head in particular, and because that was the case, he didn’t visibly perk up when he caught sight of Bill coming in to the party.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Ted left Kitty by the table and began to make his way back across the room. He got caught by Carol once, two freshmen from his eight-am, and then the Dean very briefly to be welcomed to the Faculty again. By the time he made it over, Bill and a guy he didn’t recognize were chatting companionably with Eli.

Bill was telling a story and gesturing with his hands, and the other two were laughing at something he had said. Teddy steeled himself and took a breath. He stepped into Bill’s line of sight.

Was it Teddy’s imagination, or did Bill’s face flicker with something like guilt when he joined them?

_If he doesn’t want me here, I can leave._

But the look was already gone, replaced with a small smile, and Bill was making introductions. “Ted, this is my partner, Nate Richards. Nate, Ted Altman. He’s the new early modernist in the department.”

“I remember the name.” Nate extended his hand to Teddy, eyes flickering up and down to take his measure. “Bill’s mentioned you.”

Teddy returned both gestures, shaking Nate’s hand and meeting the testing strength of his grip. _So it’s going to be like that, is it?_

Nate was about his height, handsome in a classically-built kind of way. Short brown hair, strong jaw, eyes that turned distinctly cool when he gave Teddy the once-over. He was dressed neatly but casually, a match for Bill’s chinos and button-down, and the way his other hand moved to rest possessively at Bill’s waist told Teddy the last few things he needed to know.

“All good things, I hope,” Teddy replied, the smile on his face not matching the mood anymore.

“Naturally.”

Eli didn’t seem to have picked up on the change but Bill was getting distinctly jittery, his hand resting on Nate’s upper arm as though to forestall a problem.

It would draw more explicit battle lines than he was ready for, if he mentioned that Bill had never spoken about Nate to Teddy. Not once.

“So are you an academic as well?” Teddy asked, a safe enough question. Eli snorted into his drink and Bill shook his head.

“God no,” Nate replied with rather more vehemence than was really polite, and Bill sighed. “One of us working 14-hour days is more than enough.” And that had been some kind of sore spot, because a frown flickered across Bill’s face.

“On-call counts,” Bill said. “You’re not entirely a nine-to-fiver.”

Nate shrugged. “I’m a network administrator with Pfizer,” he continued. “I may not be pushing the boundaries of current knowledge and uncovering long-buried mysteries of the universe, but it keeps me busy enough.”

And if that wasn’t a direct dig at... at _something_ , then Teddy needed his eyes and ears checked. He managed not to visibly bristle; whether on his own behalf or in Bill’s defense, he wasn’t quite sure. Bill just looked resigned. “It’s less mysteries of the universe, and more mysteries of the undergraduate mind,” Eli replied wryly, angling his shoulder to make a subtle barrier between them.

It was a better segue than anything Teddy might have come up with, and the conversation turned  away from posturing to far more neutral ground. He made his excuses a minute later anyway. His drink was empty and at that moment he found himself devoutly wishing that there had been at least a cash bar. He could use a beer.

It was probably for the best that there wasn’t.

So he may have avoided Bill and Nate for the rest of the evening, and he may have flirted a little too heavily with a cute Adjunct. Jean-something. Jean-Claude. Jean-Paul? _Colonial history, New France._ Great ass. The dark hair was purely a coincidence. Teddy had always been partial to brunets.

He looked up over Jean-Paul’s shoulder at one point and Bill was staring at them, a furrow in his brow and a frown on his face. Nate murmured something close in Bill’s ear and Bill turned his head, and smiled.

Bill smiled at Nate, and Nate’s arm was snug around Bill’s waist and his hand was flat against the small of his back. Teddy felt vaguely ill.

Teddy hadn’t ended up asking for Jean-Paul’s number.

Getting involved with someone at work was nothing but trouble anyway.

His apartment was cool and silent when he got home. The last couple of boxes waiting to be unpacked sat against the wall, his walls still bare of prints or pictures. He’d been spending all his time at the office. It was a better place to work, and it was important to make himself available to students and the administration. It had nothing at all to do with the office down the hall.

Teddy dropped his bag and his coat in an unceremonious pile at the door, kicked off his shoes as he trailed listlessly across the room. He tipped forward onto the low couch, let the arm catch his knees, and planted himself face-down onto the cushions. The worn fabric under his cheek was familiar and comforting. The springs below gave way to his body, cradling him. He let one arm drop to brush the floor, felt around briefly for the remote, but gave up after a moment.

He’d just lie there for a bit, give himself five minutes to feel sorry for himself. Then he had to let go, and move on. 

Five minutes. He was allowed that much.

He fell asleep there on the couch, the afghan his aunt had knitted for him half-pulled down over his body, the sound of the ticking clock in the kitchen his only company. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ABD: “All but dissertation” – the status of a PhD student who has completed all required coursework and examinations, but has not yet finished his or her research project. Often found teaching lower-level classes that tenured faculty want to get out of.
> 
> AHA: The American Historical Association. Hosts an annual conference that is more widely attended for the job interviews and the networking potential than the panels themselves.
> 
> Grad/Fac or Grad-Fac: A seminar attended by faculty members and graduate students, often with a guest lecturer from outside the department or school. This is considered part of a grad student’s apprenticeship, as they practice critiquing papers and engaging in panel discussion in a low-pressure environment (read: suck up to and show off for their advisors). Often a prelude to departmental pub visits.


	3. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein there is a threat of a rumble, an actual rumble, and Teddy makes a pretty good Kinickie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love, flowers and chocolates to my betas, feebleapb and Tzu. Tzu especially, without whom this would be a disaster of unmitigated proportions. 
> 
> There may be a slightly longer gap between this chapter and the next. I've got some heavy work deadlines over the next couple of weeks, and need to focus on those. I've got about 2000 words written for it already, so rest assured that it is underway... it just won't be posted next week.

 

**_Fall Break: No Classes Scheduled - Monday, October 15_ **

**_Fall Break: No Classes Scheduled - Tuesday, October 16_ **

**_Grad/Fac Seminar (Speaker: Dr. R.  Richards) – Friday, October 19_ **

Meeting Nate made things a little easier. Not _easy_ – that was reserved for the day that Teddy got the fuck over it, already. But easier. Nate wasn’t just ‘the boyfriend’ anymore, a faceless enemy. He was a real flesh-and-blood guy, who loved Bill and whom Bill loved. He must, or they wouldn’t be together.

Teddy might not _like_ Nate, or the way that Nate hung on Bill, or ran him down with subtle jabs and sideways comments and looks-

\- but he didn’t have to. It wasn’t up to him.

What Teddy knew first-hand about stable, long-term relationships would fill maybe half a page in 18-point font. His parents had been happy, by all accounts. But his dad had died long before Teddy had been old enough to remember, and his mom had never really dated, after. His aunt and uncle seemed happy, but they were so private with anything resembling affection that they may as well have been congenial roommates.

As for Teddy, his longest relationship to date had been a year and a half. And that had been so long-distance that they had been in the same city a grand total of eleven weeks, only a handful of those consecutive. After that (and before, if he was going to be brutally honest, and all the times in between), there had been Greg. Greg and the endless push-me-pull-you, and promises that turned to threats, and the bone-deep desperate yearning for approval that never came.

So really, what could Teddy possibly know?

Except that Bill looked sad around the eyes, and tired.

Except that Nate mocked the things that made Bill brilliant.

Except that Teddy would gladly give up everything for just a chance at long-term love. For someone who would turn to _Teddy_ and laugh, when he murmured in his ear.

_It was just a crush._

He could enjoy it; enjoy the rush of heat when he was near Bill, the charge in the air when they spoke, a handful of late-night fantasies that he would never admit to, even under torture. He could relax and take pleasure in those things without _doing_ anything about it.

He was a grown man. He was capable of being mature.

\--

Faculty meetings were designed to be painful. Nothing else could explain it. At least Carol was a nice chair, and brought doughnuts.

The one and only bright spot about being an adjunct rather than full faculty, Teddy thought as he took his seat between Bill and Eli at the long conference table, was that he hadn’t been expected to show up. Now, he had no excuse.

"Where's Kate?" Teddy murmured to Bill as Carol glanced at her watch and started passing around copies of the agenda.

"Running late. Some anonymous assbutt posted a bunch of threats and comments about her breasts on the student intranet and she's talking to IT and legal."

"Jesus." Teddy growled under his breath, caught in a surge of anger. "Are they going to be able to do anything?"

Bill bent his head closer to reply, his hair flopping down over his brow. He pushed it, his fingers tangling in the dark strands. "I hope so, or Kate's likely to take the campus apart brick by brick. She was livid this morning, and I can't blame her."

Their whispered conversation was drawing eyes and Teddy shut up under a reproving look from Steve. That man could work the wordless 'I'm disappointed in you, son' like no-one else on the planet. Teddy cushioned his chin in his palm and tried to look interested in space allocations. Grad student assignments were three items down on the agenda; he could keep himself awake until then.

Forty-five minutes later and with Jess and Dr. Knight still bickering about the last empty office, Teddy was starting to doubt his resolve. He added a few more lines of shading to the abstractly curlicued doodle in the margin of his notebook, and bit back a sigh.

Bill bumped his arm and Teddy shifted over a little. Bill pressed against him a little more, the muscle of his forearm - _and why did he have to keep rolling up his sleeves like that? Unfair_. – as distracting as ever. He was scribbling something on Teddy's paper, and Teddy paid rapt attention to the meeting (budget cuts; when had they moved on to budget cuts? Dammit, Altman.) until Bill was done. 

_If I faked my own death, do you suppose they'd let us leave?_

Teddy bit back a smile, and after a minute when he was sure no-one was watching, scribbled back.

**_depends how good an actor you are. Also, how? Choke on a cruller?_ **

_suicide by ballpoint pen?_

**_weak._ **

_Death by papercut?_

**_take too long._ **

_spoilsport._

Then it was time for a vote and Teddy scrambled to peer over Eli's shoulder at his notes to figure out what was going on. There was another note from Bill waiting for him once the voting was done.

_Hangman?_

Bill hadn’t waited for a reply, doodling a little gallows at the bottom of his paper. Teddy glanced down quickly and then away as Bill filled in a long series of dashes, counting them off on his fingers as he went. 26, 27, 28.

**_Seriously? if this is the magna carta preamble, I will hurt you_ **

_One word._

**_Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?_ **

_The fact that you can spell that from memory terrifies and thrills me more than it should._

**_E_ **

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _e_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _e_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**_A_ **

_a_ _ _ _ _ _ e_ _ a _ _ _ _ _ _ e _ _ a _ _ a _ _ _ __

**_i hate you_ **

_are you conceding?_

**_I_ **

_a_ _ i _ i _ e_ _ a _ _ i _ _ _ e _ _ a _ i a _ i _ __

**_O_ **

Bill flashed him a thousand-watt smile and drew a careful circle just below the arm of the gallows. Teddy scowled.

Ten minutes later, half an agenda item gone, and his poor little hanging guy only missing one foot, Teddy made his final guess.

**_F_ **

Bill was obviously smug, and it looked too good on him for Teddy to be really annoyed.

 ** _So?_**   

_A n t i d i s e s t a b l i s h m e n t a r i a n i s m_

**_Oh my GOD you suck._ **

He underlined ‘god’ three times, just to be clear.

_You wish_

Teddy was saved from a really unfortunate, probably entirely too honest reply when he realized that the room had fallen silent. He looked up from the notebook to meet a dozen stares, some more amused than others. His ears flushed hot. Eli was covering his mouth and having a coughing fit.

"Oh, don't let us interrupt," Carol said, her tone syrupy-sweet in that 'you are about to get your ass kicked' kind of way. Teddy flipped the notebook closed and muttered an apology, sinking low in his seat. He held off looking at Bill as long as he could, sneaking a glance a few minutes later when he was reasonably sure that no-one was watching. Bill looked back at him like he knew, and he grinned, and Teddy couldn’t find it in him to be embarrassed anymore.

\--

Decent office chairs, it turned out, were less than a hundred bucks, and it seemed a small price to pay out of pocket. Getting the thing back to campus on the bus was slightly more of a pain in the ass than Teddy had really anticipated.

Pepper frowned at him through the office window as he pushed the chair past, and he gave her a jaunty wave. The floor had that slip-sliding just-been-waxed feel and it _called_ to him. He couldn't resist. He ran a couple of steps, then drove his knee into the seat and rode it, as victoriously as Caesar ever rode a chariot, a few triumphant yards down the hall.

Janet was staring as he - and his magnificent steed - slowly coasted to a halt.

For a moment, all was still. Teddy slowly lowered his arms.

The chair spring creaked.

She looked at the chair.

She looked at him.

She didn't blink. Not once.

The weight of the disapproval in that stare was palpable, heavy and thick. Teddy found himself hunching his shoulders a little out of sheer, blessed instinct as he fumbled for his keys.

She was still watching as he unlocked the door. She turned, after a moment, and strode off, muttering something darkly under her breath.

Teddy let out a puff of air and sagged against the chair, fumbled his door open and pushed the thing inside. The triumph, somehow, felt a little hollow.

\--

As noisy as the department lounge tended to get, working in there felt a lot better, some days, than closing himself in his office. Cassie was curled up in a massive armchair with her laptop balanced precariously on her knees. Eli was across from her reading a book. Pepper and Darcy were circling in and out on errands and coffee refills, and even Bill had been through five minutes before, though now he was back out in the hallway talking on his phone. The constant hum of activity was soothing.

Teddy flipped over the assignment he was marking and scribbled the grade in his book. Twelve down, thirty-two to go. Voices behind him made him glance up and return smiles and nods from Carol and Jess as they wandered in.  

“I found the rest of those essays,” Carol said, continuing a conversation-in-progress. She set her bag down on the couch beside Pepper’s friend Tony, who was poking at something on a tablet and only glanced up briefly to acknowledge them. “I was sitting on the floor while I was doing my marking, and Chewie must have dragged them under the couch.”

“That’s a relief-“ Jessica began, but was interrupted.

“And peed on them.”

Teddy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, a gesture he assumed wouldn’t necessarily be appreciated _._

Jessica covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes dancing with repressed mirth. “Oh my god. What can you say to them? ‘Sorry, guys; my cat ate _your_ homework’?”

Carol sank down onto the couch beside Tony with a groan. “Oh yeah, laugh. Eating them wouldn’t have been nearly so bad.”

Tuning out the noise, Teddy skimmed the next paper in his stack. If he spent ten minutes on each one, he could get another four marked before he had to leave for his meeting. He could still manage to leave a thoroughly respectable two or three useful comments on each, as long as he didn’t write _too_ much...

He only made it to the first page before he sank his chin into his hand and sighed in disbelief. “Do they think we’re stupid?” he asked the room, fully intending it to be a rhetorical question.

Tony looked up and tucked his tablet away. "Who? The dean's office, journal editors, or Finance? The answer is generally 'yes' to all of the above. Unless you're me, of course."

“Shoo, Tony,” Pepper suggested mildly, her heels clicking as she crossed the room.

“Does who think we’re stupid?” Bill stopped behind Teddy and looked over his shoulder at the stack of papers on the table. Teddy was suddenly acutely aware of his writing (not as neat as it should be) and the red ink dotting his fingertips. “If you’re talking about students, the answer is generally ‘yes.’ What’d they do this time?”

“Cut and paste a Wikipedia article instead of writing the assignment,” Teddy answered, frowning at the paper in his hand. “The links are still blue!”

“See, that’s just insulting.” Bill leaned over to take a closer look and Teddy’s breath caught in his throat. Bill either didn’t notice or pretended not to, his hand resting lightly on Teddy’s shoulder. The heat of it burned through to Teddy’s skin, and he imagined that he could feel his pulse beating, right there at the join of their bodies. “You’d think she could at least take the ten seconds to select-all and change the font colour.”

“They also think we don’t know how to use ‘the Google,’ and don’t realize that the first hit _they_ get will also be the first hit _we_ get.” Kate breezed past, mail in her hand. “Or that we won’t notice when someone who couldn’t differentiate between ‘they’re,’ ‘there’ and ‘their’ on the pop quiz can suddenly use ‘hegemony’ or ‘praxis’ correctly in a sentence. As if.”

“Praxis – wasn’t that one of Klingon’s moons?” Teddy joked. Bill laughed, squeezed his shoulder before he let go. Teddy smiled, but it quickly faded.

Cassie frowned. “So why do we bother if they’re not even trying to learn? And what are they spending all this money for?”

Eli looked up from his book, post-it tabs bristling from the edges of every page. “Because a lot of them _aren’t_ here to learn. We’ve generated a system that requires a specific credential as both a class marker and a weeding-out mechanism, even for jobs that shouldn’t need any kind of academic training.

“Anyone who wants to compete for white-collar employment needs a post-secondary degree, whether they’re suited for it or not. That leads to thousands of ill-prepared and fundamentally uninterested teenagers trying to check off sixty credits worth of boxes with minimal effort, in order to get a piece of paper and get on with their ‘real lives.’

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he finished with a flourish, and stabbed his pen at Teddy, “enjoy the fruits of our post-modern status quo.”

He flashed a bright smile at Cassie. “Grad students, though; you guys have no excuse.”

“And on that cheerful note,” Billy drained his coffee and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I have to go teach. Anyone feel like subbing in on this one for me?” he asked half-seriously.

“What’s the topic?” Kate flickered an eyebrow up, halfway through sorting flyers into the trash can.

“Charlemagne and the Carolingian renaissance. Lots of holy wars, technological expansion, and gory deaths.”

“Ooh. That's a fun one.”

Bill sighed, and hung his head. “If I have fewer than fifteen of them grinning at their crotches while they pretend not to be texting, I’m going to call today a win.”

\--

Friday, Friday, Friiiiday- the refrain sang in Teddy’s mind like an exultation or a prayer. And not just Friday, but the Friday before the two-day study break, which meant a four-day weekend all to himself. Which meant, realistically, four days for things like laundry and setting up his midterms and trying to get as many lectures prepared as physically possible, but the dream of free time was a beautiful thing.

He flopped down in his chair – oh luxury of luxuries! – and leaned back with a contented sigh. Things were going well. He had settled into a rhythm of classes – prep – research – marking that had taken on its own momentum. He had a plane ticket back to Portland for Christmas, where Aunt Lyra would try her damndest to fatten him up for the return flight. And he was managing _not_  to think about Bill Kaplan as anything but a colleague.

Much.

No more than four or five times a day, anyway, which was a vast improvement.

It would have been fewer than that today, if Bill hadn’t left the top button on his shirt undone. He hadn’t been able to avoid looking when they’d bumped elbows at the coffee pot, at that ridiculous collarbone and the long line of his neck, the soft divot of skin just behind his jaw that was just begging for Teddy’s lips-

_Dammit._

Maybe he should take Darcy’s advice (god, that phrase filled him with despair and concern) and go out this weekend. He wasn’t hard up enough yet to try speed dating, whatever Darcy might threaten, but a drink at a bar wouldn’t kill him.

Teddy opened his email. One more check to make sure everything was in order, and then he was out of here. Warp factor five, Mr. Sulu. Engage.

 

 _From:_ [ _n.romanova@nycu.edu_ ](mailto:n.romanova@nycu.edu)

_To:_ [ _t.altman@nycu.edu_ ](mailto:t.altman@nycu.edu)

_Subject: Unauthorized Materials Purchase_

_Be advised that your recent purchase of office equipment of type #45A was unauthorized, and cannot be reimbursed from university funds. All purchases must be made through the formal tendering process in order to preserve NYCU’s relationships with our preferred suppliers._

_As such, the University in general, Purchasing and Facilities Management cannot be held responsible for any liabilities, damages, repairs or other that may result from use of unauthorized equipment while on university property._

_In line with this, to waive your rights to insurance claims in this instance and in order to prevent removal of the unauthorized equipment, forms NYCU51-D, #FM-B115 and #PUR891118765 must be filled out in triplicate, and remitted to the Purchasing office before 8 am on Monday, October 15 th._

_Have a nice day._

 

The passive-aggressive ‘have a nice day’ was the crowning touch. Teddy hit ‘print’ with a long-suffering sigh, and pushed himself to his feet.

“Hey, Darcy,” Teddy began as he walked into the office, and she held up a hand to forestall him.

“I know that ‘hey.’” Darcy gave him the stink-eye. “That’s not a ‘go enjoy your bubble bath and glass of wine, Darcy,’ hey, that’s a ‘you will be stuck at the office all night and never see your cat again,’ hey.”

“You have a cat?” he asked in confusion, and avoided the rest of her comment entirely. Never let it be said that he didn’t learn from his mistakes.

“No, but I could. And it would be at home right now crying out ‘mommy, why aren’t you here? Why are you starving me’? And then I would blame it all on you. So. Why are you here making a life-long enemy of my theoretical cat?”

He passed the email over, settling down on the corner of her desk. She had a handful of brightly-coloured mugs arrayed along her windowsill, and he stole a lollipop out of one of them. “I just got this from Facilities – do you have any idea where I can find all these forms?” He stripped the plastic and shoved the candy between his teeth.

Darcy gave a low whistle. “You must have really ticked off somebody there, tiger. I’ll see what I can find.” She turned back to her keyboard and typed for a minute, her fingers flying across the keyboard with its faded letters. “They’re supposed to post all the forms on the shared server, but do you think that ever happens? No. I think they just enjoy screwing with us. This will take a few minutes. So while I have you captive,” she began, and he got a little worried. “Have you got a costume for Luke and Jess’ party yet?”

Teddy wrinkled his nose. “The Hallowe’en thing?” he asked around the lollipop stick. “I don’t know if I’m going. I’ve got a ton of work to do.”

“Bullshit,” Darcy grinned up at him. “You’re just in a rut. An anti-social workaholic rut, which, if you don’t mind my saying so, is not a good look on you.”

“I like my rut. It’s cozy.” Teddy protested weakly. _Bill would probably be going. He couldn’t ask about  that without exposing more than he wanted to._ And the idea of hanging out with Bill’s boyfriend at another function was not a pleasant one.

“Everyone goes to this thing. You should have seen Steve and Carol last year. She talked him into this getup from Van Helsing? That supremely shitty vampire movie? I’m pretty sure it was all about the leather pants.” And she looked Teddy up and down.

“I’m not wearing leather pants, Darce.” Teddy couldn’t help but grin.

“No leather pants.” She held up her fingers in the Scout’s pledge, and he realized with a start that he’d just implicitly agreed to something that he’d had no intention of doing less than a minute ago.

“Trust in Darcy,” she smiled again as the printer began spitting out a stack of papers, and Teddy laughed a little nervously. “Darcy will take care of everything.”

\--

Grad/fac hadn’t been nearly as interesting this time around, but at least the group migration back to the grad house was a constant. He’d briefly debated the wisdom of sliding into the booth next to Bill, considering. But Kate had been poking him in the ribs to get him to keep moving and turning to sit with Tony, Steve and Pepper at the table would have been too obvious, and so.

There he was. There they were, pressed thigh to thigh in the narrow booth. Bill was warm against his side. It would be so easy to lift his arm, to let it rest along the cushion behind Bill’s shoulders, to fit them together like the pieces of a puzzle they might have been.

If only Teddy hadn’t been so quick to discount Bill’s interest, back in August. If only Bill hadn’t gone back to his boyfriend. And if wishes were fishes, (one of his mom’s favourite hokey old sayings), beggars would eat. _Give it up, Teddy. Be grateful for what you have._

Bill laughed at something Eli was saying, his eyes alight with pleasure. Teddy grinned in response, that look in Bill’s eyes igniting a similar fire low in his gut. Bill glanced up at the door as it opened, a new group coming in. “Don’t look now, but the admincritters have arrived.”

There wasn’t much you could do with a lead-in like that _but_ look, but the first few through the door didn’t look all that different from anyone else on campus. Blond guy, early forties, medium-tall and broad-shouldered. A slim redhead beside him, curly hair and a serene expression.

Tony grinned with unholy glee and elbowed Steve in the side. “Watch out, Riff – here come the Sharks!”

Pepper grimaced. “Tony-“

“We didn’t schedule a rumble for tonight, did we?”

Pepper rose from her seat and approached the newcomers, stopped to air-kiss with the redhead as Tony started humming.

Teddy leaned in, resting his elbows in the table. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at Bill. “Who are they?”

“Facilities Management. They pretty much run the campus. Or at least keep it from crumbling into ruins. That’s Barton and Romanova there; they usually travel as a set.”

Romanova; Teddy knew that name. She was the one on the other end of the insurance emails that had taken him the better part of the weekend to sort through. Somehow he expected she’d be older. Meaner-looking.

Whatever else Bill had been about to add was lost when the door swung open again and the last couple of members of the party came inside. First was balding middle-aged guy, followed by a tall black man with an impeccable black suit, a black trench coat to ward off the autumn chill, and an eyepatch strapped around his bald head.

Teddy blinked. Big Guy didn’t. He turned, instead, and headed for the bar with his colleagues, stripping off his trench coat and folding it carefully over his arm.

“Nick Fury,” Bill supplied the answer for the question Teddy hadn’t asked yet. “VP Facilities.”

Teddy bent his head closer to Bill’s, so that he could speak without being too obviously rude. He caught a hint of Bill’s aftershave, something clean and bright, a smell that made him want to nuzzle in and-

“So the eyepatch,” Teddy said, trying not to sound entirely strangled by proximity. “Real?”

“No-one knows,” Bill replied with a grin, and mischief dancing in his eyes. His glasses had slipped low on his nose and he took them off, dropping them on the table in front of him. They had left little red marks on the sides of his nose, and Teddy had to force himself to stop staring. “And no-one’s brave enough to ask.”

“He looks like a pirate.”

Bill chuckled quietly. “A pirate who got lost in the Matrix, maybe.”

“I should ask them about all those forms they made me fill out,” Teddy said, sitting back and staring across the room at the group near the bar. “I didn’t get a return receipt and there’s no way I’m going through all that again.”

Tony was on a roll, catcalling Jess and Barton from his table, and Nick Fury glared at him from his post at the bar. Then he glared at the rest of them, just for good measure. Teddy could practically feel the irritation boiling off him.

“Maybe later would be a better bet,” Eli suggested, taking in the whole thing with exasperation.

“Would it matter?” Billy said, propping his elbows on the table and waggling his eyebrows dramatically. Teddy chuckled, and he took that as encouragement. “Fury knows all. He is... _The Eye_ ,” Bill intoned. “Piercing all shadows of cloud, and earth, and flesh, and to see you: to pin you under its deadly gaze, naked, immovable."

He lowered his voice in dramatic emphasis as he spoke and Teddy caught himself leaning in to hear him better, his ear close enough to Bill’s mouth as he finished that he could feel a hint of breath. He sat up abruptly before he embarrassed himself.

“Billy Kaplan, you _nerd_ ,” Kate teased with indulgent affection, rejoining them with a fresh pitcher. She refilled Eli’s glass as well as her own before she sat down.

“This isn’t news,” Bill replied cheerfully.

“So if Fury is Sauron,” Teddy mused, “would that make Romanova the Witch-Queen of Angmar?” And the look of sheer delight that Billy gave him at the reference was enough to make everything, ever, completely worthwhile.

Bill laughed and shook his head, and his eyes were so warm with approval and pleasure that staring into them was like drowning. “I think she’d make a much better Ungoliant,” he suggested instead.

“Who?” Eli frowned at them both. “You guys lost me.”

“Ungoliant, giant spider?” Bill made his fingers walk across the table, sort of spider-like. If you squinted. Teddy made a fist and tried to squash it, but Bill darted his hands away. He landed the tips of his fingers on the table again, scrabbled his hand sideways, and Teddy took fresh aim.

Recognition dawned on Eli’s face for a moment. “Oh! You mean Shelob.” He caught Kate’s look and shrugged. “I go to movies.”

Bill rolled his eyes and sighed, his distraction just long enough for Teddy to land a gentle fist dead center on the back of his hand. Bill flattened his hand against the table, playing along, then did a reasonable approximation of death throes. Laughter bubbled up inside Teddy and burst out of him, and then Bill was laughing with him (or at him; it was a sign of how right it felt that he didn’t care which it was), giddy and ridiculous.

He could spend the rest of his life laughing like this, being understood like this, and it wouldn’t be enough. He wanted more than one lifetime, more than one chance to feel like this, to be with _him_. The understanding hit Teddy like a glass of ice water to the face _(in too deep, nothing’s_ happened _and I’m already in way too deep)_ even as he struggled to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed hot and his eyes wet with tears.

Then Bill’s laughter died away and he sat upright, grabbed for his glasses and slid them on. Teddy looked up in turn. The rest of the laugh died when he followed Billy’s gaze, saw Nate standing in the doorway watching them.

That, then, was the reminder. This would never be his.

“That’s my ride,” Bill apologized as he stood, grabbing his jacket off the back of the booth. He gave Teddy an apologetic look, and tugged at Kate’s ponytail as he slid out past her. “I’ll see you guys Monday.”

“Night, Bill,” Eli nodded, and Kate made a small wave toward Nate, still standing by the door.

Teddy didn’t watch him go; he turned back to his beer instead. He’d finish then go home; go home and see what he still had queued up on his DVR, and crash.

He did look up, just once, to see Bill leaving, Nate’s hand pressed against his upper back. It was Nate who turned one last time, Nate whose gaze locked with Teddy’s, Nate whose eyes narrowed and jaw tightened before he turned away, stepped outside, and let the door swing closed behind them.

\--

For a week or so, throwing himself into work had been a reasonably useful reaction. At least until Eli knocked on his door, grabbed him by the proverbial scruff of the neck and hauled him out to the quad ‘to get some sunshine before you die of rickets, dammit.’

It was nice to know that his friends cared.

The steady hit of the football against his hand stung and soothed at the same time, the easy rhythm of the game almost hypnotic. Teddy caught Eli’s toss easily, sent it winging back in a lazy spiral that sank into Eli’s arms.

“You decided to go after all?” Eli tossed the ball in his hand and threw it back, a clean and precise shot, like everything that Eli did.

“I don’t know if I ‘decided’ as much as ‘got steamrolled,’ Teddy shrugged, reaching up to pluck the ball out of the air. He jogged back a step and fired it back toward Eli.

“Darcy?”

“Darcy. I think I’m her new project.”

“Run,” Eli advised with a laugh, and his next throw was hard enough to slap against Teddy’s hand. “And whatever you do, don’t let her pick your costume.”

Teddy took a second to re-wrap his scarf and shove the ends out of the way, his only concession to the weather other than his sweater. “Too late.” He shrugged it off like it didn’t matter to him one way or the other, but if he had to be honest, he didn’t really mind.

Everything was a costume, in its own way; suits and ties on dates, club clothes to make himself look a lot cooler than he’d ever actually felt. Every morning he got up and put on his grownup costume before coming in to work. What was one more in his arsenal, on a day when everyone else would be wearing one too? “She told me she was ‘taking care of everything.’ What are you going as?”

Eli caught the ball and shrugged back. “Same thing as every year, probably.”

“Which is...?”

“Captain America.” Eli grinned at Teddy’s flash of surprise, and sent the ball back to him at high speed.

“I didn’t think you read comics.” Teddy ran back over previous conversations in his mind’s eye, tried to remember anything Eli might have said.

“I don’t,” Eli’s eyes narrowed and he caught the ball that Teddy fired back. “Historically, comic books have been nothing but straight white male power fantasies. Attempts to incorporate any racial diversity manifest as the worst kinds of pandering, racial and cultural appropriation, or  reinforcement of the sad old tropes of the Great White Hope and the Noble Savages. Black characters written by white dudes all end up as the same ludicrous jive-talking Bronx-based stereotypes.”

So many arguments, so little time. Teddy resisted the urge to start firing modern examples back and simply cocked his head in confusion. “So – why Captain America?”

Eli’s smile widened, bright against the dark brown of his skin. “I just like messing with people.”

\--

The next day, Teddy left a bag on Eli’s office door. Inside, he’d tucked a handful of trades: _Daughters of the Dragon_ , a couple of issues of _Heroes for Hire_ and the compilation of the last run of _Immortal Iron Fist_. He stuck a post-it note on the latter that read ‘ _Give these a try.’_

A week later, the bag was back on Teddy’s door. His comics were inside, along with an article printout and dog-eared copies of _War, Politics and Superheroes_ and _Of Comics and Men_. The post-it on the cover of the last one read only ‘ _Not bad. Your turn_.’

They were pretty good reads.

\--

“It could’ve been a lot worse,” Eli said, and handed Teddy a beer from Luke’s fridge. Dr. Cage’s house was already mostly full, even this early in the evening, clusters of costumed guests chatting in every corner of the warren of narrow rooms that made up the first floor. Eli hadn’t been kidding about his costume, though it was more appliquéd hoodie and jeans than anything involving spandex. “Where’s your partner in crime?”

Teddy gestured across the room, to where Darcy was chatting happily with some of the grad students. The pull of the tight black t-shirt across his shoulders was just awkward enough to catch his attention when he moved. The jeans at least were his – Darcy had supplied the rest, including the jacket. He’d refused to let her go near his hair with the pomade, though, despite her threats. “It’s not quite what I expected, exactly, but that was my fault for not asking first.”

“Sometimes it’s better not to know what she’s thinking; then at least you have plausible deniability.” Eli popped the cap on his beer and tipped it forward to clink the neck against Teddy’s. They headed for the living room as Carol and Jess brushed past with smiles and nods.

“I tried to tell Steve that it was a Rocky Horror theme party, but he didn’t buy it.” Jessica was saying, and Teddy hid a grin.

“You told him what?”

“I really want to see that butt in stockings. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Only a little.”

There was more room to move here, and they grabbed a couple of chairs. Teddy turned his around to straddle it, arms resting casually on the back. He was decent at parties; it was easy enough to put on the social smile and small-talk his way through them. Thank god for Eli and his version of the ‘who’s-who,’ though; the running commentary made it easier to keep track.

“I don’t think I recognize him,” Teddy tipped his beer bottle slightly at a guy across the room in a lab coat and Einstein wig.

“Peter,” Eli had to think for a minute before supplying the name. “He’s Luke’s friend from somewhere; I think he teaches photography at the community college. Nice enough, weird sense of humour.”  

Steve came in the door then, dressed in WWII vintage, with a woman on his arm. She was in a matching uniform, lips red and hair up in victory rolls. Teddy had definitely never seen Steve with a girl before. He’d had the vaguest suspicion that he and Carol might have a thing, but obviously not so much. Teddy returned Steve’s casual wave, and raised an eyebrow at Eli. “Steve has a girlfriend?”

“That’s Peggy, Steve’s wife,” Eli replied. “She’s great. I think she’s actual military, or something; she’s out of town a lot.”

“Hey, losers.” That voice was familiar, and Teddy’s head jerked up in response. If Tom was here, then- but it was Kate at his side, not his brother. Teddy struggled not to let his disappointment show on his face. “You still dragging that same old costume out, Eli?”

“Why mess with tradition?” Eli wasn’t biting, nodding a greeting at Kate instead. She was done up all in green, a miniskirt showing off legs that Eli, at least, seemed to be trying really hard not to look at, and wore a little nerf bow slung over her shoulder.

“What are you supposed to be dressed as?” Eli asked Tom, looking him over. It wasn’t obvious, whatever it was. Tom looked a lot like he usually did, in a t-shirt and well-cut blazer. Kate beat Tom to the answer.

“He’s officially too cool for Hallowe’en.” She elbowed Tom lightly in the ribs and he pressed his hand to his heart, then made a big show of straightening his jacket and brushing off his sleeves.

Teddy tuned out of the conversation, scanning the room and the hallway beyond. Maybe Bill had decided not to come. It wasn’t like this was any kind of mandatory thing, just a party. He probably had a pile of invitations to other things. He’d lived here most of his life, after all, and would have high school friends and family friends vying for his attention.

Not to mention his boyfriend’s social circle, whoever they were.

“Just as we were coming in,” Kate was saying, and Teddy dragged his attention back to the other three with a guilty startle. Tom gave him a look that Teddy couldn’t quite parse, and ignoring it seemed easier. “She brought Clint, you know, from Facilities? Tony points at him from across the porch and starts being all ‘j’accuse!’ about ‘fraternizing’ again. He’s going to start a war if he’s not careful.”

“I thought it already was a war,” Eli replied, lifting his bottle to his lips. “Pepper’s the only one who can get them to do anything.”

“That’s because Pepper’s magical.”

That was when Bill passed by the open living room door. Teddy’s eyes were drawn to him as though he were magnetic north. Bill was in academic robes, which seemed a bit like a cop-out, considering that eighty percent of the people currently in the house owned a set. He noticed the Gryffindor scarf around Bill’s neck half a second later, and that made him smile. Then Nate caught up from behind him, rested his hands too-casually on Bill’s hips. A blue glow shone through his shirt that Teddy couldn’t quite place for a second.

Right. Arc reactor. With that and the suit- Trust a computer nerd to not only come to a party as a computer nerd, but to find some way to put it over the top. They turned in to the kitchen and vanished from sight.

Teddy straightened in his seat when Bill – just Bill – joined them. The dark robe hung loosely enough around him that it should have obscured his shape. But his hand was wrapped around a glass of wine and the contrast of his fair skin against the dark red of the wine was beautiful, his fingers longer than they had any right to be.

The moment dragged on a beat too long and Teddy stood, nodding at Bill as though he was just a regular guy, just another co-worker. Yeah. He totally pulled that off. “No scar, Potter?” he asked, resisting the temptation to run a finger over Bill’s forehead where he’d have expected the makeup to be.

“I’m a generic background extra,” Bill said, smiling at Teddy. “I meant to go get one of those latex scar packs, but didn’t have the time, and drawing one on with sharpie would have been a bad idea.”

“Oh yeah. Class tomorrow would have been interesting, though.” He would have gone on, but Bill was studying him, and Teddy pinked a little under the scrutiny.

“Right, so that is the costume I thought it was,” Bill pronounced after a second, looking vaguely surprised as well as pleased. “I didn’t realize you were into musicals.”

“Oh no, another one,” Tom groaned, Kate elbowed him, and Teddy was reminded with a start that the other three were still standing there. “What? The sing-along ‘Sound of Music’ should not be an annual tradition for grown men.”

Teddy shrugged, the tips of his ears still warm, and Bill looked so happy about the thought that he hated to burst the bubble. But. “I’m not? Not really. I mean, I know the movie, obviously. But it was Darcy’s idea, honestly – she has a Pink Ladies jacket she was dying to wear, and talked me into playing along. I didn’t have any better ideas, so.”

“It’s pretty good,” Bill was laughing at him a little, and Teddy found he didn’t mind that at all. Then Bill set his wine down on the table beside them and reached for him, running his fingers along the collar of Teddy’s shirt. “But here – you have to pop the collar on the jacket to get the look right.”

Bill’s fingers brushed his neck. It was only half a touch, an accidental skid of skin on skin just below his jaw, but it seared into his flesh like a brand, throbbing in time with his pulse. Teddy breathed deep, lifted his chin to let Bill fuss. He rolled his eyes at Eli good-naturedly, just to show that yeah, this was totally casual. Just a guy helping a friend out. Nothing to see here, etc etc.

Eli was totally buying it, laughing at them both. Tom was looking at something else across the room. Kate, perhaps not.

Bill stepped back to look at his handiwork and was nodding in satisfaction when arms snaked around his waist. He startled. Nate pressed up behind him, locked his arms around Bill, and the smile he turned on Teddy was like a shark’s; too wide, too bright, and not an ounce of sincerity in it.

Teddy took an involuntary half-step back, putting a little distance between them before he realized that that would only make things look worse. But Eli, Kate and Tom were right _there_ – he and Bill couldn’t have been doing anything wrong. They hadn’t been.

“Hey, you.” Teddy wanted to hear an edge of disappointment in Bill’s voice when he greeted Nate, and maybe he’d heard a trace of one. Bill turned his head when he spoke and Nate took the opportunity to kiss him, just a brush of his lips against Bill’s that might have deepened into more if Bill hadn’t pulled back again.

It felt like a claiming; marking his territory, like Bill was something that could _be_ claimed, and Teddy felt his hackles rise.

“Nate,” Teddy nodded anyway, made his greeting like the rest of them. Nate stepped into the circle, leaving one arm around Bill’s waist.

“It’s Ben, right?” Nate held out a hand, and when Teddy shook it, squeezed his fingers. It wasn’t quite a crush, but it was a warning.

“Ted,” Teddy corrected him. He returned the grip, just enough, then let go first.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Sorry about that,” Nate replied, another thing that didn’t seem to touch his eyes. “The new guy, right? How are you settling in?”

It was a simple question but Teddy found himself bristling. He held his hands still – don’t fidget – pulled himself up to his full height (he had a couple of inches on both Bill and Nate, and he was meanly grateful for that) and pasted on a smile of his own. “I’m doing well, thanks; the department’s made me feel right at home.”

Nate nodded serenely, though Teddy thought he’d seen a challenging flicker in his eyes. “That I can see. These guys taking it easy on you?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Teddy slipped his free hand in his pocket, his beer a cool reminder in the other. Nate was a smug little shit, he decided, and gave in to the urge to poke at him, just a little. “But then, where’s the fun in ‘easy’?”

( _Teddy was a bad person, and this was proof_ ).

Nate’s eyes narrowed, and Teddy realized belatedly that the others were watching them. Bill was bowstring-tense, bringing his hand to his face like he was going to chew on that thumbnail, then dropping it again to clutch his wineglass.

“That’s true,” Nate conceded silkily, but his smile had gone thin. “But it’s a bit early for that, isn’t it? I would think you’d want to take your time to get adjusted. It can be so tempting to come to a new place and start upending the status quo, rather than take your time to comprehend the lay of the land.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I understand how things lay around here,” Teddy cringed inside even as he said it, fully aware that conversation had faded a little behind his back, and Tom was absolutely eating this up. He kept his back straight and his smile calm _._ “And there’s always something to be said for hanging on to tradition. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for change.”

“Good luck with that,” Nate’s reply was immediate, accompanied by a twist of a smile. “The only people I’ve found to be more resistant to change than academics are bureaucrats, and at least they’re honest about it.”

A sour look twisted Bill’s face, and Teddy heard a thundering rush in his ears. He wanted to get between them, wanted to wipe that smirk off of Nate’s face in a primal sort of way. And he realized with a start, at the flash of satisfaction on Nate’s face, that that was precisely what he was hoping for.

 _Goading bastard._ And Teddy was walking right into it. Would probably have kept right on walking, even aware, if it hadn’t been for-

“That’s tarring with a rather wide brush, don’t you think?” Kate interjected smoothly, and the toe that nudged the arch of Teddy’s foot wasn’t there accidentally.

“He’s got a point about the rate of change,” Eli picked up her tone change and ran with it. “New scholarship and teaching methods can sometimes become accepted practice, but only after they’ve been poked and prodded and torn to shreds by the old guard.”

Teddy drained the last of his beer, using the break in the tension to slam his social mask firmly back into place. “Excuse me,” he said, flickering his eyes toward Bill, but Bill was resolutely not meeting his gaze. _Fuck_. “I’m going to get a refill. Back in a bit.”

He managed to extend that promise at least half an hour, the trip back to the kitchen turning into conversations with Kitty about her honors project, with Danny Rand about an article he’d pitched about silk road travelogues, another with Steve about committee work.

Running away was probably about the worst way to try and solve his problems, but for the moment it seemed to be working pretty damned well.

He chatted until the crush and the heat of so many bodies in too tight a space grew overwhelming. Beer in hand, Teddy went looking for a hidey-hole. The screened-in porch out back was the best of all possible worlds, the only signs of life the red glow of embers from a couple of smokers in the back yard. It was cold out here and he hadn’t grabbed his jacket, but he’d be fine for a little while. Just until he got his equilibrium back.

Teddy flopped down into a chair in the far back corner of the porch and stared out at the night. He couldn’t see any stars here. It wasn’t surprising, given the light pollution and the mesh of the bug screen. Not surprising, but a bit disappointing. Maybe this summer he’d buy himself a small tent and go backpacking, go somewhere he could see the stars. There was that campground near Nanticoke that mom had always loved, and the sky there was amazing.

“...I barely see you, and then when we do have an evening off, we spend it with your co-workers. And while we’re at it, let’s talk about those co-workers.”

The door to the porch slammed open and then closed again, the blue glow coming from Nate’s arc reactor illuminating the two new bodies on the porch. Teddy should stand up, should say something to let them know he was here. He started to, shifted to set his beer down, but then Bill was talking and he’d already heard too much to make revealing himself anything less than a disaster. Shit.

“How about we not?” Bill shot back, hot on Nate’s heels. “Because then we’ll have to have the conversation about how you go out of your way to humiliate me in front of them. What the _hell_ was that all about?”

“Altman’s a dick. And don’t try to deflect this, Billy; this isn’t about me. It’s about you. And how I never see you. A relationship includes two people, not a guy and his remote control, and another guy and his library.”

“My review is this spring, Nate; I only have one paper in the pipeline right now, along with the book.” Bill raked his hand through his hair, and pushed his glasses up to sit on top of his head. The frustration was pouring out of him, in his jittery gestures, and the edge in his voice. “I need to be seen supporting the department, and that means showing up at department events. None of this should be a surprise to you! Once I get tenure-”

Nate advanced on him, stepping into Bill’s space. Teddy flinched, fought the desperate urge to get in between them, to stop the fight from getting worse, except that revealing his presence would make the situation even worse.

“I thought it was supposed to be once you got the job,” Nate said, his voice low and tightly controlled. “And before that, it was once you finished your dissertation. I’m getting sick and tired of you moving the goddamned bar all the time. When do I get you back?”

Bill shook his head and didn’t move, his hands balling up into fists in the near-dark. “Right, because I’m doing this on purpose just to avoid you. It’s not always about you!” he hissed back. “It’s part of the job, Nate. I don’t have a choice right now. You know that. With tenure-”

 “’Tenure’- I am so fucking tired of that word! It’s only different because that’s how you’ve decided to play it. You have to figure out what your priorities are, Billy, because I’m goddamn sick of being the other man in your life,” he spat, flattening his hand against Bill’s chest and pushing. Bill rocked back on his heels and Teddy surged to his feet, his beer forgotten on the table.

“Hey! Cut that out.” Teddy’s hands were balled into fists and he forced them to relax, not to go in swinging.

“Oh shit-“ Bill began, his eyes wide when he realized they hadn’t been alone.

Nate scowled and laughed bitterly. “Is that how you get your jollies, Altman? Listening in on other people’s private moments?”

“If you hadn’t been fighting the second you stepped out here, I’d have said something sooner,” Teddy stepped into the little bit of light seeping through the porch door, not quite face to face with Nate but close enough. “And I can pretend not to listen when it’s just words, but you crossed a line.”

“Back off, Ted,” Billy snapped with anger in hiseyes, and that made Teddy stop for a minute, because why, when Teddy was protecting _him_ , and- And Bill didn’t particularly look like he was interested in being protected. “I don’t need your help here _._ ”

 “You heard him, _Ted_.” Nate said, slick and mean. “Back off. We got this.”

Bill put his hand against Nate’s chest and ducked his head, in a gesture that looked uncomfortably like submission. “Give me a second.”

Nate turned and slammed the door open, headed back inside. Bill stood there for a minute, arms folded across his chest and his head low.

“Bill, I-“ Teddy just stood there, half in shadow and half in light. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat; was there anything – there had to be something he could say that would fix this, that would take them back in time an hour, to before he’d fucked it all up.  

“Don’t suppose you have a time turner stashed in your office somewhere?” he managed. His voice came out so quietly that he wasn’t sure at all that Bill had heard it.

One corner of Bill’s mouth crooked up in a hint of a smile, and Teddy closed his eyes against the wave of relief. He wasn’t forgiven, not yet, but at least Bill didn’t seem like he was planning on never speaking to him again.

“No,” Bill said, and shook his head. “I don’t.” He looked up but still didn’t meet Teddy’s eyes. “Look, just. Just forget about it. I can handle Nate, and I don’t need _saving_.” His voice picked up speed as he spoke, and Teddy’s relief crumbled away to dust. “You don’t know anything about any of this; what gives you the right to go poking in, and-”

“I thought he was going to hurt you, Bill – he _pushed_ you. Anyone would have done the same-“

“No, they wouldn’t. Because anyone else would have said something earlier, instead of sitting there eavesdropping like a creep.” Bill lashed out, and the words stung worse than any push or fist might have done. “Just back _off._ ”

“I’m sorry-“ Teddy started to say, but Bill turned and went inside again without another look.

Teddy waited another two minutes before he moved at all.

By the time he returned to the living room, Bill and Nate were circulating, Nate chatting away with Eli. Bill was quiet, just cradling a wineglass in his hands and staring at nothing in particular.

When Nate caught sight of him, his lip curled in smug satisfaction. Ted turned away.

He needed to escape, he needed quiet, and his own four walls. He needed space to think. It took a few minutes to hunt Luke and Jess down and thank them. He was out the door before he remembered that he hadn’t said goodbye to Darcy. He stared up at the front door from the front steps, at the light shining out through the living room windows, the bursts of music and laughter, muffled by the glass and the door.

He couldn’t go back inside.

Teddy shoved his hands in his pockets and jogged quickly down the porch stairs, before he could change his mind, before he could talk himself into going back in. He shoved his hands in his pockets and he walked down the street, and left the party behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The works that Eli left for Teddy were:
> 
> Di Paolo, Marc. _War, Politics and Superheroes: Ethics and Propaganda in Comics and Film._ Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland  & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2011.
> 
> Gabilliet, Jean-Paul, Bart Beaty, and Nick Nguyen. _Of comics and men: a cultural history of American comic books._ Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2010.
> 
> Singer, Marc. "Black Skins" and White Masks: Comic Books and the Secret of Race. _African American Review,_ Vol. 36, No. 1 (Spring, 2002), pp. 107-119. Published by: St. Louis University. Article Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2903369
> 
> These are all great pieces of scholarship, and any of them would make a good jumping off point for getting into some of the more recent academic work on comics as a medium. Singer’s a bit thick with the jargon, but the Gabilliet book is fantastic.
> 
> For a fascinating discussion on the current state of academic scholarship as it relates to comics (and with a lengthy, lengthy list of reviewed works and authors to look into), check out:
> 
> Smith, Greg M., Tom Andrae, Scott Bukatman, and Thomas LaMarre. 2011. "Surveying the World of Contemporary Comics Scholarship: A Conversation". _Cinema Journal._ 50, no. 3: 135-147.


	4. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nate returns, It is Brought, and Teddy declares war on Skynet. 
> 
> Betaed by feebleapb and Tzu. <3 <3 <3

**November**

**_Midterm Grades Deadline -_ ** **_Tuesday, November 6_ **

**_Grad/Fac Seminar (Speaker: Dr. P. Maximoff) – Friday, November 16_ **

**_Thanksgiving Recess - Thursday, November 22 - Sunday, November 25_ **

****

His head throbbed. 

Teddy leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Distant voices echoed through the stairwell, the sound of footsteps in the hall outside. He had a class to teach, but he needed a minute.  

He had hoped, last night, that he’d feel better once he got home. _Not so much._   He’d spent the night reaching out for sleep that never came, staring at the ceiling while the clock flickered and changed, minute after slow and steady minute.

His phone beeped at him, his five-minute warning. He pushed himself away from the wall, and headed through the heavy double doors.

The hallway was relatively empty, and voices echoed. Teddy caught himself up short before he turned in to the open door of his classroom.

“... _fistfight_ with Doctor Kaplan’s boyfriend.”

“Seriously? But Doctor Altman’s so _squishy_. I can’t imagine him even _yelling_ at anyone-”

“Were they fighting over Doctor Kaplan? That’s actually really hot.”

“- wait, Doctor Altman is gay _too_? That’s just not _fair.”_

“’Fair’ depends on who you’re talking to, honey.”

Because god forbid they’d have anything else to talk about. Or come even remotely close to the truth.   _The only thing that travels faster than the speed of light is gossip._ Teddy bit back a groan and scrubbed his hand across his face. He had to go in; there was no escaping this one.  

Okay, then. Shoulders square, head up, and pretend like he hadn’t heard a thing. He shouldered his bag and stepped through the door and into view. His nine upper-level students looked up at him with varying degrees of surprise, mild chagrin and avid curiosity. But Kitty was giving him a sympathetic smile, a little knowing twist of her lips.

“Good morning, all.” Teddy busied himself with pulling his notes out of his bag while the class settled. By the time he’d tapped his papers into some semblance of order and got the projector working, he’d managed to relax enough that he could ignore the rest for the moment.

“And here we are,” he began with a genuine smile. “As you’ve probably guessed from the readings, today’s topic is censorship and the mid-Tudor crisis period. But before we start, I need to collect in your first drafts. If you can bring them up to the front, we can get that out of the way...” 

\--

He had eight browser tabs open and none of them were what he wanted. Teddy grimaced and clicked, and another two popped open. He frowned. “Run this by me again?” He tipped his head back to stare up at Darcy. She patted him on the head, then perched on the edge of his desk. “ _How_ do I access the official gradebook?”

“Click here.” She pointed a finger at the screen; her nails were purple and blue this week. “And sign into that again.”

He clicked, started typing, and she shook her head.

“No?”

“No. Not your general password, your CMS password. And use your email address, not your universal login.”

"It's not all that universal then, is it?"

"Hush. Now click here, then _here_ and you're in."

"No, now I'm back to the start menu."

"Do you have java enabled?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"Here; go into settings, then options, _then_ set the click-through-"

"Just for the record, I hate this system with the fire of a thousand burning suns."

"Everybody does," Darcy agreed with him, giving him an unruffled look over the dark rims of her glasses. "My working theory is that it's actually a sentient organism that subsists on the despair of the living."

She paused, watching him for a second. “So about last night, Mr. Bad Date-“

Teddy winced. He deserved whatever she was about to say, considering the way he’d bailed on her. He was a terrible friend. Even so… “Can we not talk about it?” he tried. “I know I cut out on you, but some things came up, and I really don’t feel like going into it right now.”

Confusion was a good look on Darcy, considering how often she inspired it in others. She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we can not-talk. About your ‘things.’” She punched him in the upper arm, and he flinched. “But you still need to give my jacket back, you big dumb jerk.”

\--

Thursdays after office hours were supposed to be Teddy's research days, the one solid block of time where he could block everything else out and focus on his own work. Except that today he could barely concentrate enough to remember his name, never mind decode eighteenth century secretarial shorthand.   
  
Teddy pushed back the photocopied folios with a groan, and sprawled in his chair.  He needed... something. A distraction. Some noise or conversation. The lounge was out; the student association had taken it over and the couches were full of earnest activists planning trivia nights and beer pong. Eli was at the library, and Bill was - well, Bill was the entirety of the problem. Which was how Teddy found himself knocking on Kate's office door.   
  
Kate's office was as tidy as her apartment, decorated minimally with a couple of family pictures in matching gold-toned frames tucked in among the orderly rows of books on the shelves. She was on the phone when he walked in.

“Don’t ask me, he’s your brother,” she replied, then held her hand over the receiver for a second to gesture at her guest chair. _Tom_ , she mouthed, and he nodded, sinking into the chair to wait. “Not really, no. I have to go. No. Going now. Yes, really. Buh-bye.” She hung up and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

Teddy took the chance to ask. “So... are you guys a thing?”

“We're not a thing.” Kate frowned.

“Really? Because sometimes it seems like there’s a thing.”

“There’s no thing.”

“Then you and Eli-?”

“No thing.” She paused, then, curled her feet up under her in her chair. “He wants there to be a thing, obviously.”

“And you don’t.”

She hesitated. “Eli’s a great guy, and a really good friend. If we didn’t work together? Maybe?”

“That’s an issue?” There was no policy on getting involved with co-workers as far as he knew; just students. Half of his old department back at Dartmouth had been dating, or spousal hires. Teddy frowned. It’s not like that would change much of anything as far as he was concerned. Not given current circumstances.

“Not the dating part, the breaking-up part.” Kate raised an eyebrow. “I mean, can you imagine it? His bitchface alone would trigger homicidal rage at sixty paces.”

Teddy snickered.

“And if you breathe a word of any of this within twenty feet of Darcy, I’ll have you murdered in your sleep.”

“Noted.”

He ran out of easy conversation and found himself caught between warring impulses; to fill Kate’s time with useless small talk just to have the company, or to open his mouth and start talking about the elephant in the room.

Kate just waited, curled up in her chair like the most Cheshire of cats.

"I screwed up," he said finally, sinking further down into his seat and picking at a loose stitch on the chair’s armrest.  
  
"Yeah, you did." She didn’t sound entirely unsympathetic, but apparently wasn’t about to let him off the hook. "So what are you going to do about it?"   
  
Teddy grimaced. "I was thinking of avoidance as a solid strategy. I hear Peru is nice this time of year."

She laughed. "With our travel budget? Good luck with _that_ funding application."   
  
Teddy grabbed an elastic band from Kate's desk and toyed with it, pulling the rubber tight against his fingers. "You're his best friend; other than his brother, I mean." Kate snorted. "What would you suggest I do?"  
  
"If you weren't both such _boys_ I'd say 'talk to him.' But I understand the whole 'society has forced us to repress both our feelings and ability to express them in anything approaching a mature manner,' thing." She waved a hand dismissively as Teddy choked.   
  
"I don't think that's entirely fair.”  
  
Her smile turned from vaguely amused to smug. "Then why aren't you sitting in Billy's office having this conversation?"   
  
"Because I prefer to do recon before I risk getting my ass kicked?"  
  
"And it's got nothing to do with being chickenshit."   
  
Teddy opened his mouth fully intending to protest, but nothing came out. He closed it again and felt the tips of his ears flush warm. "I embarrassed both of us, in front of half the department. And then I stuck my nose where it didn't belong. Some cracked-out version of the story's already going around the grad students, and I'm sure Bill wasn't interested in being the focus of gossip."   
  
"That happens anyway," Kate pointed out with flash of a frown, winding her hair up into a twist around her pen. "If they don't have real gossip to spread, they make something up."   
  
That helped and it didn't. "Still."   
  
"Don't you think you're blowing this a little out of proportion? Nate was _trying_ to get under your skin. So you fell for it; so what? It’s only as big a deal as you make it. And running away isn't going to solve anything." She shot a rubber band off his forehead as punctuation.   
  
"Ow, hey!" Teddy was startled into laughter by the sudden sting and he rubbed at the spot. "Point taken, Annie Oakley."

She blew invisible smoke off her finger-gun. Teddy dropped his hand, let his arm rest along the back of the chair. “So just... talk to him. That’s your advice.”

“Apologizing wouldn’t hurt. It’s not that complicated. Billy’s a big believer in second chances.” She delivered that last statement with a wry twist to her lips. "And just for the record, he likes dark roast. No milk, stupid amounts of sugar." 

\--

Teddy could take direction.  
  
The extra-large boat of a cup had to be holding enough caffeine to kill a small goat, and it was probably sweet enough to send Bill into pancreatic shutdown, but a small hadn't seemed like enough.   
  
Bill was in his office and momentarily student-free. Teddy paused in the open door. Bill was head-down and reading, scribbling notes in the margins. His glasses were slipping low on his nose and he pushed them back without looking up. There were bags under his eyes and he looked drawn, tired.

_Was that my fault?_

“Got a minute?” Teddy asked, leaning against the doorjamb, cup in hand. Bill looked up from his book with a bit of a jump. A handful of expressions flashed across his face - surprise, confusion, had that been hope? - before settling into 'slightly wary.'   
  
"I'm a jerk," Teddy started, before he could say anything. "I should have told you I was there the second you guys came out to the porch, and I didn't. And then I thought maybe you'd go back inside, and I could pretend it had never happened. That didn’t work so well either. Anyway." He shoved his free hand in his pocket and tried not to look as awkward as he felt. He met Bill’s gaze for the first time since he’d walked in.

"Are we good?"   
  
Bill cocked his head. "Depends," he said slowly, and Teddy's heart sank. "Is that coffee for me?" And he had a crooked smile as he reached out for the cup, and Teddy was careful not to let their fingers brush when he leaned across Bill's desk to hand it over.   
  
"Bribery works wonders," Bill said as he popped the tab and took an experimental sip. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and Teddy’s eye was drawn to the movement, the sleek lines of him, the way his dark hair fell against his forehead. The half-smile turned into a real one, if only for a moment. “About all that-“ he stared at the coffee cup, turned it around in his hands. “I shouldn’t have said what I did,” he said finally, the words spilling out in a rush. “I was mad at Nate and I took it out on you, and you were only trying to help.”

“It’s no big deal,” Teddy replied as he sat down, his own equilibrium back and Kate’s voice echoing in his ear. “Other than making an enemy of your significant other, there’s no harm done.” And honestly, he wasn’t all that upset about that part; not for himself, anyway.

 “It’ll be fine,” Bill said. Silence dragged out between them for a minute. “He’s got a point,” he admitted, and shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m not at home much, and when I am, I’m working. And it’s not fair to him. But he had no right to take any of it out on you, and neither did I.”

Teddy swallowed hard against the tangle in his chest, and the little warning voice inside. _This is a bad idea, this is not a conversation you need to have. This is none of your business._

But Teddy had been a coward at the party; that had been his mistake. He’d hesitated in August. He’d hesitated last night. He wasn’t going to do it again.

“If you fight so much,” he began, leaning forward in the chair and folding his arms on the edge of Billy’s desk. “Why do you stay?” And then everything stopped. He forced himself to breathe, to wait to see what Bill would say or do before he gave in to the impulse to tell him to forget it, to try and take it all back.  

“Inertia?” Bill said immediately. He laughed bitterly, then flushed and shook his head. “No. That’s not fair.” He wrapped his hands close around the coffee cup and rested his chin on top. “I love him.” But he didn’t sound sure of that at all.

“Nate’s been my best friend, since high school. And he’s always been there for me. When I found Tommy, and through all the bullshit with our birth parents... I was a mess afterward, for months. Most guys would have walked.” Bill looked up then, sad and earnest, like it mattered to him that Teddy believe him. “Nate didn’t. He’s been there through everything important that’s ever happened to me.”

Teddy dropped his chin onto his arms, stared into Bill’s eyes. They were the most incredible shade of brown, beautiful even now, rimmed with a hint of red exhaustion. _I would have done that too._ And his heart hurt with the thought.

“That’s not a reason to stay, though,” Teddy said quietly. “Not if you’re unhappy now. Just because something’s _been_ for a long time doesn’t mean it always has to be that way. If it’s not what you want.”

 “Maybe it’s all I deserve.” Bill’s voice was soft and he dropped his gaze, picked at the plastic tab on the cup lid.

Teddy would have given anything, every last damn thing in the world to be able to pull Bill into his arms and whisper promises of change. That he would keep the world at bay for him, that he would make it all alright. “Billy-“

The intimacy of the nickname surprised him, coming out of his own mouth. He liked the way it felt there, softer and complete.

A frown creased Billy’s brow and he didn’t react right away, the sadness in his eyes shifting into thoughtfulness. “Back in August,” he began, “if I had asked-“

Teddy never did find out what the end of that sentence would have been..

“Doctor Kaplan?” A knock on the door and a cheerful voice cut in to their conversation. Bill straightened quickly and Teddy followed suit as the door opened all the way. Bill nodded a greeting to the pair of students there, and held up his hand.

“One minute to finish this up, then you can come on in,” he promised, and the boys withdrew, the door swinging slowly closed behind them.

The moment was gone and there was no retrieving it, nor, given the circumstances, was Teddy entirely sure that he wanted to chase it.

 _That was a lie. He wanted to, desperately. The issue was that he_ shouldn’t _._

He could compromise. Teddy stood and turned the chair to put it back where it had been. “I’ll let you get back to your office hours. If you ever-”

Bill met his eyes and smiled, a slow and sweet smile that touched his eyes. “I know. Can we-”

“Yeah. Clean slate?”

“The cleanest. Bleached. Now get your butt out of here so I can deal with my students.” Bill leaned back in his chair.

Teddy grinned back. “Bossy.” And while he was feeling somewhat better as he left – at least the problem he’d gone in with had been solved – he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just opened the door to more.

\--

 **INBOX** : 28 of 61 Unread

**From:** ag543627@nycu.edu

 **To** : t.altman@nycu.edu

 **Subject:**   Grade question – HIST206

Good morning,

I was looking at my grade for the compare and contrast paper and it doesn’t make any sense; why did I lose points on the second half? Would it be possible to see a point breakdown for how this assignment was marked?

Adam

*

 **From:** t.altman@nycu.edu

 **To** : ag543627@nycu.edu

 **Subject:**   re: Grade question – HIST206

Adam,

The marking rubric is attached to the original assignment sheet in the syllabus. Take a look at that, and at the comment sheet stapled to the back of your paper; the breakdown there should match up with the rubric reasonably clearly. If you still have questions, come by my office hours this week and we can take a look at it together.

Dr. Altman

*

 **INBOX** : 21 of 61 Unread

 

From: gr543812@nycu.edu

To: t.altman@nycu.edu

Subject: missed class

hi, this is Ginny and i'm in your Tudor/Stuart class but my parents took me to florida and disney for a couple of weeks so i missed some classes. just wondering if i missed anything important and what i should do.

Ginny

~xoxoxo~ Go Unicorns! ~xoxoxo~

*

 **From:** t.altman@nycu.edu

 **To:** gr543812@nycu.edu

 **Subject:** re: missed class

Everything we do is important!

On a more serious note, you’re going to need to catch up on the lectures you missed, as all of that material is eligible to be on the exam. Please get the notes from one of your classmates and be sure to read the assigned sections of the textbook before next class (you can find the pages listed on the syllabus).

Dr. Altman

*

 **INBOX** : 26 of 61 Unread

 

From: gr543812@nycu.edu

To: t.altman@nycu.edu

Subject: re: re: missed class

hi, this is Ginny again – can i have copies of your powerpoints and class notes for the days i missed? that would be so much easier.

Ginny

~xoxoxo~ Go Unicorns! ~xoxoxo~

*

 **From:** t.altman@nycu.edu

 **To:** gr543812@nycu.edu

 **Subject:** re: re: re: missed class

It’s my policy not to distribute my lecture notes. The powerpoints are available for viewing on the class Blackboard page, as we discussed in the first lecture. You can find login instructions in the syllabus.

Dr. Altman

*  

 **INBOX** : 17 of 61 Unread

 

 **From:** footballrocks@gmail.com

 **To** : t.altman@nycu.edu

 **Subject:**   paper

Hi Dr. A! when’s the paper due?

*

 **From:** t.altman@nycu.edu

 **To:** footballrocks@gmail.com

 **Subject:** re: paper

Since I’m not sure who this is, or which of my classes you’re in, my best advice would be to read the syllabus.

Dr. Altman

*

 **INBOX** : 7 of 61 Unread

 

 **From:** hotsmexygrrrl69kisses@hotmail.com

 **To** : t.altman@nycu.edu

 **Subject:** homework

when do we have to have the papers in and is it okay if its late a couple days cuz my dad ran over the dog and shes not hurt shes just sad and I had to stay home to take care of her and missed a couple of classes when the due dates were announced is that okay?

*

 **From:** t.altman@nycu.edu

 **To** : <”Elijah Bradley”> e.bradley@nycu.edu

 **Subject:** Fwd: homework

 

Jesus _Christ._ I give up.

  
 _\-------- Original Message --------_  
 _From: hotsmexygrrrl69kisses@hotmail.com_  
 _Date: Nov 14, 2012 10:04:49 AM_  
 _Subject: homework_  
 _To: "Ted Altman" <t.altman@nycu.edu>_

_when do we have to have the papers in and is it okay if its late a couple days cuz my dad ran over the dog and shes not hurt shes just sad and I had to stay home to take care of her and missed a couple of classes when the due dates were announced is that okay?_

\--

 “What do you mean, ‘input ID number,’ you useless piece of junk? I just did, three times!”

Teddy stared at the computer screen in disbelief, the newly empty form fields a portent of disaster.

“No. Nononono, you don’t get to reset that. I just spent half an hour filling in that form.”

"Fuck."

**[Ctrl-Z]**

He breathed a sigh of relief as the form obediently repopulated.

**[Submit]**

**[Subsidiary form must be linked to a purchase order]**

"I just filled in a purchase order." 

The alert waited patiently. Teddy snarled.

"Fine." He clicked open the previous tab and brought the first screen back up again.

_Your paperwork was not received by the deadline; please submit a purchase order for equipment type #45A._

The purchase order was sitting there, and he hit the button. 

**[Subsidiary form must be linked to a purchase order]**

**[Submit]**

**[Subsidiary form must be linked to a purchase order]**

**[Submit]** **[Submit]** **[Submit]**

**...**

**[Subsidiary form must be linked to a purchase order]**

"You want a purchase order, I'll give you a goddamn purchase order, and I hope you choke on it!" Teddy growled and jabbed a finger angrily at the keyboard.

The screen didn't change.

He smashed his flattened hand down on the keyboard and got a rush of satisfaction from the desperate beep-beep-beeping of distressed electronics. The sound filled the room for a second before he took his hand back and breathed deeply, tackled the flash of temper back into submission.

 _Hulk_ **_smash._**

Bill stuck his head around the door and frowned. "Ted? Is everything okay? I heard... things."

Teddy raked his hands through his hair, tipping far enough over that his chair (he was _keeping_ it, dammit!) creaked alarmingly. How to boil this clusterfuck down to something simple?

He curled his lip at the screen, disgusted. "I hate computers."

"Here - let me." Bill waved him aside and Teddy scooted over, gave Bill some space to slip in beside him behind the desk. "Purchase order?'

"For a chair," Teddy explained, which wasn't much of an explanation at all, but Bill didn't seem to care.

"Something's not right," he muttered.

"What was your first clue?"

Bill clicked 'submit'. The system froze, the screen went red, then white; neon blue text began flashing in the middle.

**_jOO'v3 b33n H4xx0r3D bY M.O.D.O.K._ **

**_(l00zerz)_ **

The inarticulate howl of rage from Eli's office next door suggested that Teddy wasn't the only one.

There was a pause. Teddy sighed, resigned. "Explain to me again why the CompSci students aren't locked out of the main campus network?"

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Would it matter for longer than five minutes if they were?"

"Point."

Bill held out his hand; Teddy reached for it. "Come on." Bill pulled him out from behind the desk and Teddy went, pretending to stumble. Bill caught him with a laugh, hands braced on Teddy's hips for one brief, glorious moment. Then he let go and backed off a step, humor still shining in his eyes. "I was coming to see if you were ready for Grad/Fac when I heard the meltdown. Are you good to go?"

"Yeah, yeah." Teddy grabbed his notebook, a pen- "I'm coming. I'll try and figure out this stupid order form later."

The door closed behind them.

 

 **[PO entered]** , beeped the system.

**[PO entered]**   **[PO entered]**   **[PO entered]**

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**[Have a nice day.]**

\--

Home again, home again, to a silent apartment and leftovers. Teddy pulled the door open and chucked his bag against the wall. His phone buzzed as he padded down the dark hall and he frowned at the screen as he pulled it from his pocket.

**_[unknown number]: It’s Bill; I got your number from Kate. You have plans for Tksgiving, right?_ **

Teddy hit a couple of buttons and saved Bill’s number to his contact list before he could overthink it. It didn’t mean anything; there was no sense searching for subtext when nothing had changed.

**Yeah. Eli invited me; his grandma likes to collect strays and orphans.**

**_Cool. Didn’t like the thought of you sitting alone with corn chips and Dog Cops  while the rest of us were pigging out._ **

**You’re all heart. I’m not that much of a loser.**

**It’s pork rinds and America’s Most Haunted.**

**_Very classy, Altman. You set a bold example for the leaders of tomorrow._ **

Teddy chuckled and his thumbs danced over the keypad for a minute. The phone buzzed again as he was throwing his plate in the microwave, and he grabbed for it. He didn’t bother to tamp down the rush of excitement that ignited somewhere in his core, or the way it burst out of him as a wide smile. It wasn’t like anyone was there to call him on it.

 --

Teddy was humming as he headed back to his office, still riding the adrenaline high from what had been probably the best lecture he’d given so far this year. The kids had been prepared, and engaged, and _awake_ , asked questions he didn’t have the answers to and the prospect of searching them out was exciting. It had been lightning in a bottle, and he’d be damned if he knew what he’d done differently.

That, and he’d snagged the last Oreo cupcake from the Student Health bake sale tables in the lobby. It was the simple pleasures that made everything worthwhile. And today was shaping up to be a very good, simple-pleasure kind of day.

There was a trace of icing smeared on the side of his thumb, and Teddy licked it off.

He rounded the corner.

Nate was standing at the door of his office, hands in his pockets, ostensibly reading the clippings that Teddy had taped to his door.

“Bill’s office is further down,” Teddy said, everything tensing as he kept walking, the sugar-cream taste gone sour in his mouth.

Nate turned, waited for Teddy to get closer. His smirk died away, replaced by a cool and determined stare. His chin lifted and he drew himself to his full height, stared Teddy down until the creeping discomfort started to twist and reshape into something darker.

He waited until Teddy was only a couple of feet away before he spoke. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Teddy glanced over at the glass windows of the department office. He couldn’t see Pepper from here but she could still be watching; it was only a matter of time before someone walked by.

Nate didn’t seem to care. “Billy’s mine.” He drew his hands out of his pockets and took a step closer into Teddy’s space. “If you think you can try to muscle in, to get between us, you need to think again. There is nothing you can offer him that would trump the years we’ve had together, or change the way he feels about me.”

“Slavery’s illegal, unless you missed the memo,” Teddy fired back. Nate’s voice was low and tightly controlled, and everything about him was pinging as a threat. Teddy glared at Nate, tried for half a second to remember how Bill had described him; the loyal boyfriend, his best support.

He couldn’t see it.

“You don’t own another person. Even if I _was_ trying something, which I’m not, Bill’s free to choose what he wants. Whether that’s you, or someone else, or no-one at all.”

Nate’s eyes skimmed Teddy up and down, and his grim expression transformed into a sneer. “You’re a phony, Altman; all surface glitter with nothing underneath. You haven’t got the first fucking clue what Billy needs. Or even who he is. Even if you did manage to get him into bed, with your pretty blue eyes,” Nate mocked, “and your vapid perma-smile, he’d be back with me before you could get the taste out of your mouth. We belong together.”

“You know what, _Richards_?” Teddy began, carefully, calmly, keeping his voice even through sheer force of will. He took a step forward, never taking his eyes off Nate. “I think you’re damned lucky that you met Bill in high school. Because if you didn’t already have all that baggage piled on top of him? He’d see right through you – to the petty, insecure, mean-spirited, selfish little _shit_ that you are.”

Teddy was almost on top of Nate by the time he finished, looming over him as much as his extra height would allow. He could hurt him; he was strong enough, could fold Nate in half. And he _wanted_ to.  

Nate took a step back, his eyes startled wide, before he caught himself. He straightened up again and leaned in to Teddy’s space, jabbed a finger at his chest that didn’t _quite_ touch. "Don’t get too comfortable here, Altman.” His voice was a sibilant hiss, cold and furious. “It’ll be over before you can blink.”

A door slammed somewhere in the distance, and Teddy remembered where they were, how this must look. “You don’t scare me.”

Teddy pulled his keys out of his pocket and took a step back toward his office, not taking his eyes off of Nate. Nate stared back at him, his jaw working. Then he turned abruptly and headed away.

Teddy slammed his own door open, wanting nothing more than to take that anger and go over there, to break in to the rise and fall of voices he could barely hear, to rip into Nate for the jackass that he was.

_Better plan than breaking bones. Still not a smart one._

He took in a breath, deep and ragged. _One._

Find his center. Get calm again. _Two_. Punch that asshole right in the- _three._

_Three, dammit._

His door was solid behind him and he let his head roll back, thudded it once against the cool surface.

 _I can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. No matter how much I_ _might want to._

\--

  
 _"So, then I was like 'woah' and he was like 'seriously?' and... I know, right?!"_

_“No, we can’t get it, because the fucking Management students booked all the study rooms for their stupid presentations!”_

 

Teddy wove his way through the crowd, the stack of books shifting alarmingly in his arms. The library was insanely busy; that, plus the panicked and shaky look on some of the younger faces were clear signs of impending exams.

_As predictable as the changing of the leaves, or the swallows' return to Capistrano - the end-of-term library pilgrimage._

It wasn't only students, of course... _there._ Two dark heads were bent together over a table, on the other side of the atrium. Excellent timing. If there was anyone who would be able to fully get why he was on cloud nine today, it would be them.

The letter had been in his mailbox this morning, the publisher’s return address stamped in the corner. He’d torn into it like it was Christmas morning. It had been the perfect antidote to the grim mood that had hung over him the last few days.

If his mother were still – _if only_ – he could have gone to her. He could have curled up on her couch with his hands wrapped around a mug of something warm, spill the story out and let her coax the right answers out of him.

The knots inside gave way to a hollow ache. _Not now._

Teddy hesitated for a second when he was most of the way across the floor, parting bodies in front of him letting him see what’d he’d missed in brief glimpse. Bill was talking, his hands busy in front of him in time with his words. “...my _phone_...” He was curled in on himself, his head down and shoulders hunched, scowling. Kate was sitting across the tiny table, her ‘I’m listening, no, really’ face on, and she looked up and smiled at him as he approached.

"Hey, guys." Bill had straightened up by the time Teddy got close enough to the table to say anything. He fell silent before Teddy could make out the shape of his rant, and tried to look nonchalant. "Everything okay?" Teddy asked, glancing between them both.     
  
"Oh yeah," Bill replied, looking up at Teddy but not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m about ready to fire one of my TAs – preferably out of a cannon – but that’s about par for the course for this time of year.” It was too pat, too casual, but a lie Teddy couldn’t call him on.

_Did Bill know what Nate had said? Did he agree?_

“’Tis the season to thwart meltdowns” Teddy shrugged and played along with the subject change. Someone bumped him sharply from behind and he struggled to grab the books in his stack before they slid off and landed in Bill’s lap. “And to discover that the library exists, apparently.”   
  
"Are you starting a new project?” Bill asked, throwing a hand up to help steady the pile, “or are you just trying to collect enough books to build a fort?"  
  
"I was thinking more along the lines of a defensive barricade.” Teddy couldn’t help the smile that broke through his concern. "My first book contract came in this morning. I have to make some minor revisions; update the lit review mostly, and clarify some of the charts. But I finally get to use my dissertation for something more than two articles and a doorstop."   
  
He basked in the flurry of congratulations that followed, warmed through by the pleased grin from Kate and the literal pat on the back from Bill. 

“So, celebration time?” Kate teased, glancing sidelong at Bill. “Sit down for a coffee. I’ll buy.”

“Gee thanks, big spender,” Teddy wanted to, but- he shook his head. "I've got to run, unfortunately. I have a student coming by the office. Maybe later?"  
  
Kate nodded. "Are you coming to lunch tomorrow? Last chance before everything shuts down."  
  
“Faculty club? Yeah, I can do that.” Teddy glanced at his watch and winced at the time. “Now I really have to go. I'll see you guys later."

Teddy barely noticed his surroundings on the walk back to his office. The glimpse he’d seen at the library wasn’t sitting well. So what else was new?

He couldn’t ask. If Bill wanted his advice about something, or wanted to – hell, talk, or anything, he would come to Teddy. Instead, he’d gone to Kate. And that made sense; they’d been friends for years, and how long had Teddy known them? Not even four months.

It was probably for the best. If Bill’s mood had something to do with Nate, well. Teddy wasn’t exactly a neutral party. It only made sense that he wouldn’t turn to Teddy.

It still stung.

Angel was waiting for him at his office door, and he struggled to remember what the conference was supposed to be about. Midterm grades? He needed his notes.

He couldn’t shake the mental slideshow, even as he invited Angel in. Bill and Nate fighting. The way Bill had looked at him in August, all careful glances and nervous energy. The defeat in his shoulders today.

 “I just… I really, really need a B+ in this class.” Angel was talking and Teddy tuned back in guiltily from a thousand miles away. She’d dragged her chair partially around the side of his desk and was leaning her elbows on it, and her shirt was sliding down one shoulder. She probably didn’t realize that it was a bit of an unfortunate angle.

“I was wondering if, maybe,” she twisted a dark curl around one finger and looked up at him with an expression that was probably supposed to be coy-

-and she crossed her legs, her skirt riding up-

“-maybe there was something I could do, you know, for extra credit-“

And she bit her lower lip then flickered the tip of her tongue over it.

Teddy frowned, still distracted. "I'm sorry, what? No; I don't have any extra-credit assignments set for this class." He'd made an announcement about it in the first-

She leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. Teddy's flinch back may have been the fastest he'd ever moved in his life.

Oh. Oh god.

 _Wait - people actually tried this? Did it ever actually_ work _? He shouldn't have let the door close, and-_

_Damn it, that was a lot of thigh._

"No," Teddy said firmly, and he pushed his chair back to put more distance between them. "And I think we’re done here."

She pouted and adjusted her bra strap, tossing her hair. "Not even a little assignment? I really need a break here, Doctor Altman," she wheedled. "My father will _kill_ me if I don't get my grades up."

Teddy stood and went around his desk the long way. He grabbed for the door handle to pull it open. "In that case, I think your energies would be much better spent on coming to class regularly, doing the readings and turning in the homework."

A dark scowl flashed across Angel's face, briefly distorting her features before her expression smoothed. She bent down to pick up her bag, her skirt riding up again, and he looked away.

"I'll see you in class, Miss Salvadore," he said firmly.

She brushed past him as she left, tilting her head to look him in the eye. "All I wanted was an extra paper to write. It's not that big a deal." And then she was gone, with a toss of her hair and the heels of her shoes clicking down the hall.

Teddy let go of the door and watched it swing closed. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. _New rule; use the lounge for conferences._

Something glinted silver on the floor when he sat down at his desk again. The delicate ID bracelet had a broken clasp, and he briefly - very briefly - contemplated going after Angel. But she was likely halfway out of the building by now, and he wasn't going to chase her down.

Teddy dropped the bracelet in his desk drawer and shoved it closed. He sat there for a moment, his chin in his hands. The contract package was still sitting on his desk. Bill was upset. Nate wanted him gone. Teddy had a stack of books to read, a revisions deadline to meet, all the technology on campus was conspiring to give him an aneurism, about a hundred term papers would be coming in over the next few weeks, his desk chair was still under constant threat of removal, and his students, apparently, were going insane.

How was _this_ his life? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don’t speak L33t, the hacker message on the NYCU intranet translates to “You’ve been hacked by M.O.D.O.K. (losers)”
> 
> The rating goes up in the next chapter. Don’t get too excited yet.
> 
> Edited to add: Further reading! If you're enjoying this fic (and I hope to god some of you are!), then you should really also be reading ["I'll Cover You,"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/589582) by Isengard. Billy's POV, adult characters, non-powered AU - this time Billy works in advertising and Teddy manages an animal shelter. 
> 
> We started writing these around the same time and haven't been discussing plots at _all_ , and yet they're coming out with very similar tone, and as vaguely synchronous and complementary pieces of work. Hers is better. Go read it, then come back here for my next chapter, soonish. ;)


	5. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein I start to earn my E-rating, but boys are dumb.
> 
> All my love to feebleapb, for her beta, and Tzu for being the voice in my head while I edited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Possible trigger warning.** There is a single line in the first scene that could be construed as a reference to dub-con. If you skip to the first scene break and start from “Work helped” you’ll be fine from there.
> 
> The rating jumps to E from here on in. By reading on, you swear that you’re old enough to know what you’re getting into, etc etc.

**December**

**_Holiday Potluck - Thursday, December 6_ **

**_Last Day of Classes - Friday, December 7_ **

**_Reading Day - Saturday, December 8 - Sunday, December 9_ **

**_Fall Semester Exams -_ ** **_Monday, December 10 - Friday December 14_ **

 

\--

_Billy was naked. Teddy ran his tongue along the jutting lines of his clavicle, bit down on the skin there just to hear him gasp. The flush rose high on Billy’s cheeks and along the line of his throat, and he tasted like salt-sweat and summer. His tongue licked into Teddy’s mouth and Teddy opened for him greedily. He let his knees fall apart and Billy fit between them, a solid weight to ground him._

_Teddy clutched at Billy’s hip. He pressed his thumb against the rise of his hipbone, smooth and pale in the bedroom’s half-light. His thumb left a red mark and he rubbed at it, raked his teeth across the stubble on Billy’s jaw when he hissed. Billy’s hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking hard and slick and slow. Teddy arched up into it, thrust up into him; into Billy’s long slim fingers and the breadth of his palm, the lust in his eyes that had turned them liquid and dark._

_“You want this,” Billy sat up, knees pushing Teddy’s thighs further apart, his hand working tight and fast. “I know you do.” Teddy squeezed his eyes shut, his hands flexing against Billy’s skin, his hips, ran his fingers up over Billy’s ribs as high as he could reach. And god, it was good and tight and he wanted-_

_“Yeah,” Teddy breathed out. “Yeah, please-“_

_“So suck it.”_

_The voice was flat and hard, the shape of it utterly changed._

_Teddy’s eyes flew open in a panic, and the face that looked down on him was wanton and cruel and as familiar as his own skin._

_Greg._

Teddy’s eyes flew open in a panic and he bolted upright in his bed, the nausea flooding him and his body slick with sweat. The room was empty. It was empty and he was alone, the faint light from the streetlamp outside his window casting a dim orange glow on his bedsheets and his skin.

He was still hard, his body’s betrayal tenting out the front of his pajama pants. He resisted the urge to slide a hand down and finish what his subconscious mind had started, rubbing his eyes instead. The red numbers on the clock flashed balefully; 5:53. The alarm would be going off in seven minutes. There was no point trying to get back to sleep now.

Half-awake and aching, his breath still rough, Teddy stumbled out of bed and toward the shower. The cold of the spray wasn’t enough to drum away the images in his mind, but it was a start.

\--

Work helped. The general atmosphere of panic that suffused a campus in the last couple of weeks of the semester didn’t. The stack of term papers sitting on Teddy’s desk waiting to be marked _definitely_ didn’t.

“I should have given them all scantron finals,” he declared gloomily, poking his fork at the sad remains of the salad on his plate. “Did you learn anything in this class. Check Yes or No. The honor system applies.”

“That’s one way to make sure your student evals will be good this year.” Kate finished her drink and tried to catch the waiter’s eye, raising a hand to flag him down. Bill snickered beside her. Being deliberately a little late for lunch had meant that Teddy could safely snag the seat beside Eli, across the table and as far away from Bill as possible.

Even that wasn’t quite far enough.

All Teddy could see when Bill spoke were his lips, lush and perfect, and wonder what they would look like after being kissed, licked into, bitten- _would it be anything like his dreams-_

“The only problem would be that whole ‘due diligence’ thing,” Eli stole some fries from Bill’s plate. “That and whatever poor sucker ends up with those students next year.”

“What about your TA? That’s what they’re paid for.” Bill pushed his plate toward Eli, the china scraping on the wood table. He looked at Teddy and Teddy yanked his gaze away from Bill’s mouth.

“There’s no way she can do a hundred papers with the hours she has left,” Teddy shook his head, his ears flushing hot at being caught staring. Thank god for the lower light in the faculty club; maybe he hadn’t noticed the blush. “And there’s no budget for an extra marker. I’m giving her half of them, though.”

“You should do what my advisor did once,” Kate suggested. “Stand at the top of a staircase and toss the pile down. The paper that goes the farthest gets an A+, and curve it backward from there.”

Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re shitting me.”

“I shit you not.” Kate shook her head. “Mind you, he was tenured and a term away from retirement.”

“Oh, I know,” Bill jumped in, and he gestured with his hands as he spoke.

_The dream-feel of those fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him in long, easy slides-_

“Relabel the grad house dartboard with letter grades, and chuck a dart for each student. Bam: A. Bam: B+. Off the board: sorry, you fail.”

Eli shook his head. “That’s only useful if your aim doesn’t suck. I’ve played ball with this guy, so I know that wouldn’t work.”

“Hey!” Teddy protested, wrenching his attention back to Eli and away from ... things. Seriously inappropriate things. “If I’m going to go there, the least I could do is make it interesting. Anagram the students’ names – A+ to the funniest results, then curve.”

Bill chuckled and Teddy smiled, but he had trouble meeting Bill’s eye. It was bad enough that he was nursing an infatuation when he was awake; did his subconscious mind have to get in on things as well?

There were only two more days until the end of term,. Then he’d have three weeks where he could avoid Bill entirely, and let the crush fade away naturally.

Sure.

\--

“You baked cookies!?” Darcy practically climbed over her desk to get at the Tupperware Teddy was carrying.

“I like baking – those are for the potluck – Darcy!”

“You are the perfect man,” Darcy said solemnly, as she pried the box out from under his arm and stole two. “Why are you still single? If I can’t have you, I need someone to live through vicariously. You need a date.”

Because _that_ wasn’t a loaded statement. Teddy was acutely aware of the open door to the office, the buzzing in the hallway as faculty and grad students milled around waiting for the holiday party to start. He shrugged gamely. “Who has the time?”

She tilted her head and gave him a dangerous grin, and he shook his head. “Seriously Darce, I’m good.”

He wavered even as he said it; maybe it would be a good idea? A date would get his mind off of Bill, at least for a little while. But it wouldn’t be fair to whatever neighbour or cousin’s brother Darcy managed to dig up.

No, he had it right the first time. “No fix-ups.”

She didn’t lose the smile and he shuddered a little on the inside.

“Darcy!” Pepper’s call had Darcy out the door and loaded down with platters and plastic cutlery, and Teddy breathed a small sigh of relief. The quiet didn’t last long, though, and within half an hour the party was in full swing.

Laughter and cheers erupted from one corner of the room, Pepper’s boyfriend Tony in the thick of things. A clump of mistletoe dangled from a line that he was holding over Jessica’s head with a crude fishing rod, and she was telling him off in no uncertain terms. Teddy refilled Eli’s wine glass despite his complaints, and set the bottle back down beside a half-dozen empties. “No wonder the custodians think we’re all a bunch of lushes.”

Steve groaned from the food table. “Speaking of a walking invitation to a lawsuit.”

“Everything that man does is an invitation to a lawsuit,” Luke replied without looking up, adding another couple of cookies to his plate.

Teddy wasn’t intentionally _avoiding_ Bill, but the press of people in the lecture hall-turned-party room was enough to lose himself in. He drifted easily from conversation to conversation, glass in his hand, his mind half on the party and half on his growing to-do lists.

 “...conference in Reykjavík in February; who do they think they’re kidding?”

“So then _I_ said, the student fees are going to support the campus infrastructure. And that’s when the projector caught fire.”

“Typical.”

“...sitting in a yurt watching the sun rise with a Japanese tour group and a couple of geocachers from Newfoundland...”

“Ted! I mean, Dr. Altman.”

Teddy turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Cassie was a welcome sight, even as frazzled as she looked, a glass of wine in one hand and her ponytail askew. “’Ted’s’ fine, Cass,” he replied. “Merry Christmas, in case I don’t see you later on. Last class today?”

“Just got out of it; oh my god, what a relief. I’m not sure who was happier – me, or them.” Cassie scanned the room, a small frown playing over her lips. “Have you seen Jonas yet? He was supposed to meet me here after work.”

“Tradition demands a kiss!”

Teddy flinched as something green flew through his peripheral vision. He looked around, then up, and finally spotted the clump of plastic mistletoe that Darcy was dangling over their heads. “Aw, come on, guys. Cass is a student.”

“ABDs hardly count!”

Cassie snickered. “I don’t mind if you don’t,” she offered. “I don’t think Jonas will feel threatened.”

“Har-har.” But he leaned down, in the spirit of the thing, and she kissed him on the cheek. He’d barely straightened up again before Darcy had an arm around his neck. She was still holding Tony’s fishing rod, and she planted a noisy kiss on his other side.

There was a camera flash from across the room and Luke’s wife grinned and waved at them. “Website!”

Darcy was laughing and so was Cassie, and it was the end of term, and the energy in the room was infectious. _He’d made it through the first four months, he had friends and a routine and a place here that was_ his. Teddy found himself laughing despite himself, returning Darcy’s kiss with a chaste peck, and she finally let him go. He turned, opened his eyes-

-and came nose to nose with Bill, who threw up a hand to prevent Teddy from bashing into him, and looked just as startled as Teddy felt.

There was a flash of green.

_No, Darcy, no,_ please-

“Tradition demands a kiss!” she cheered.

Teddy’s smile faded. It was the perfect excuse. He could just lean in and brush Bill’s cheek, or his lips, even grab him and dip him and make a joke out of it, and no-one would blink. Kissing Bill was obviously something he’d thought about, when he’d been alone, the bedsheets cold, and the world a dark and three-am kind of place.

But not here, not now, with the department surrounding them and Cass and Darcy laughing. A flush of pink was slowly rising up Bill’s throat, and were his eyes fixed on Teddy’s lips?

“Get a room!” Tony jeered from somewhere in the throng.

The moment was gone. Quick as anything, Teddy leaned in for a kiss, aiming for Bill’s cheek. Jessica called Bill’s name and he turned at the last second. Teddy’s kiss caught his lips instead, the chaste brush of skin against soft skin a lightning bolt that rocketed through him and left him briefly breathless. A camera flash went off. 

He’d caught Bill by surprise as well, judging by the little ‘eep’ of sound, and Teddy jerked back. “I want fifty percent if you’re selling those to the tabloids,” Bill joked a little too quickly, stepping away at the same time. He brought his hands up and put the glass between them, adding another boundary.

“Happy Hanukkah,” Teddy lifted his glass in Bill’s direction, and Bill flashed him a surprised smile in return. The attention was off them now, and they had been close; so close. All he would have had to do was open his mouth, and-

\- and Danny had Bill’s arm and was pulling him into another conversation, and cheers from the back corner suggested that Darcy had found a new pair of victims.

The rest of the party passed in a bit of a blur, the faint buzz from the wine adding to the heady energy of the group. Teddy stayed behind to help with the garbage bags and hauling tables back into place, long after Carol had sent Pepper and Darcy packing. It didn’t take long, objectively speaking, but the first floor hallway was quiet and echoed with the sound of his footsteps by the time Teddy made it back to his office.

His door was gone.

Well, not _gone_ , gone.

Just… not there. Buried, behind the ceiling-high stack of identical boxes that had appeared between the time he’d left for the party and now.

_Cantilever Office Chair, Black,_ said the label on each one.   _Seat-tilt and lock with tilt-tension /  250 lb. capacity /  Assembly required_.

He counted them, just because.

Nineteen boxes.

He counted them again, just to be sure.

_Nineteen. What the everloving fuck?_

There was a purple sticky-note on the front of one of them, and Teddy peeled it off.  The message was written in glitter pen, and signed with a little heart.

_Happy Holidays,_

_from Facilities Management._

\--

The next day was meeting after scheduled meeting after moving-boxes-and-swearing, and by the time Teddy finally got back to the Arts building, it was well after eight at night. The place was still, a handful of students curled up in chairs in one of the lounges, only half the lights on now at the end of the day.

The semi-darkness made the crack of light spilling from under Bill’s door all the more obvious.

Teddy glanced at his watch and frowned. It wasn’t unusual for someone to still be there, but it wasn’t normally Bill. Not this late, and especially not on a Friday.

He knew better than to get involved.

His legs kept moving despite themselves, each step echoing softly down the dark and empty hall. Bill’s door was sitting partly open, the puddled light picking out the scuff marks on the tiled floor. Ted knocked, and peeked in.

Bill was sitting at his desk, glasses off and his head cupped in his hands. He was staring at his computer screen, his eyes distant.

Teddy tried for what he hoped was a friendly smile, but given the way Bill was hunched over and the blank look in his eyes it was difficult to feign cheer. “You’re here late,” he tried, leaning against the door frame and folding his arms.

Bill started, groaned and rubbed his eyes with the pads of his fingers. “The joys of academia and the flexible work schedule – where you can work any hundred hours of the week that you choose.”

“Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah. Just finishing these proofs.” Bill sat back and replied quickly – too quickly. He darted a glance at Teddy, and he was hurt, someone had _hurt_ him, a fresh bruise vivid on his cheek.

“Bill, what the hell happened?” He was across the room in a couple of steps, and it didn’t matter what Bill thought anymore, or who might be outside. He needed to touch, to reassure himself that Bill was whole and solid and that it wasn’t as bad as it looked-

Bill’s hand flew to his face and he ducked his head, too late to hide anything.

Teddy knelt in front of him and reached out to cup Bill’s cheek, just barely trace the pad of his thumb over the swollen mark. It was warmer than the rest of his skin, the blood so near the surface. Bill closed his eyes and winced at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

It was red-purple fresh, the edge of the bruise a straight line. He’d been beaten with _something_ ,  not a fist, and Teddy’s pulse thundered loud in his ears. “I swear to god, Bill, if he hit you, I’ll kill him.” And in that moment he meant it, fury painting everything with a wash of red.

Bill turned away, not enough to knock Teddy’s hand loose, and shook his head. When he looked back up the bags under his eyes were darker than they’d seemed before, that awful, livid mark impossible to look away from. “That’s not what- Nate didn’t do anything to me,” he insisted, then stopped talking. He grabbed for Teddy’s hand and brought it down from his face. Bill’s palm was cool where it pressed against Teddy’s skin, his hand smooth.

Boyfriend, no boyfriend, _whatever_. Teddy laced his fingers through Bill’s and waited a beat.  Bill’s hand closed around his. “Then what did happen?” Teddy asked, and his voice was as calm as he could make it, the anger underneath still burning for an outlet. “Tell me.”

“You’ll laugh.” Bill went redder and looked down at their linked hands.

“I won’t laugh,” Teddy promised, because what the hell could possibly be funny about this?

“Swear it.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Teddy vowed. He didn’t move from where he was squatting in front of Bill’s chair, arms braced on his knees and one hand laced into Bill’s grip. It was ridiculous and juvenile and it had the effect he needed it to, because Bill’s hand tightened a little on his before he confessed.

“I ran into a door.”

Teddy growled. “Bill, come _on._ ”

Billy rubbed at his face with his free hand, wincing when his fingertips brushed the edge of the bruise. “No, seriously,” he sighed, his bangs flopping low over his eyes. “I know that’s the worst line in the history of ever, but it’s also God’s honest truth. Nate and I were fighting-“

“- _Bill._ ”

“He never touched me. We got into a fight and he was never going to let it go if I didn’t do _something_. So I called him a bunch of names and I was going to go storm off in a huff and slam the door at him to make my point-“ More than just Bill’s cheekbone was red now, an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. “But the door was right _there_ , and when I turned around, I slammed into the edge.” He sank down in his seat, his slow and humiliated descent to the ground blocked only by Teddy’s knees.

Teddy stared at him. And he couldn’t help it, the image was- yeah. One corner of his mouth flickered up into a quick grin before he could contain it again. “You _flounced_?”

“Shut up. I didn’t flounce.”

“You flounced. Right into a door.”

Bill glared at him from under his dark hair. Teddy met his gaze, unflinching, the storm of anger passed and... yeah. It was a _little_ funny. He bit back the smile he’d promised he wouldn’t make.

“It was a _manly_ flounce,” Bill muttered under his breath.

Teddy pretended to consider that for a second, then nodded. “Legit. Any flounce that ends in bodily injury can be considered macho.” His fingers were still laced through Bill’s, and he made a snap decision. He would regret this later, definitely. But. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on, I said. I’m taking you out of here for a while. Coffee or something stronger, your choice. But either way, you’re leaving this office and getting out into civilization for at least two hours.” Teddy rose to his feet and pulled on Bill’s hand, hauling him bodily out of the chair.

Bill hesitated and let go of his hand, and for a minute it seemed like he wasn’t going to play along. But he nodded, and grabbed his glasses from his desk, his coat off the hook on his door. “Stronger. After the day I’ve had, I definitely need something stronger.”

\--

They were out for longer than two hours. The bar wasn’t really a bar; more like a restaurant with couches, or a tavern with martinis. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cozy and not on the usual list for student bar crawls, and they’d managed to claim a small table near the flickering fireplace.

Teddy tried not to stare at the bruise. Bill had been keeping the conversation casual since they’d gotten there, peppering him with questions about his dissertation and his work, telling stories about his own. It was good, warm and comfortable and easy, and entirely surface-deep. By the time Teddy glanced at the clock, the bar beginning to empty out as the post-theatre patrons trickled home, it was past one’o’clock.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. Not much, anyway. “It’s late,” he apologized. Bill, on the other hand- he had someone waiting for him. The idea of the evening ending sent a pang to his insides, but by the same token, it probably felt pretty awful being the one waiting for a boyfriend who was ‘working late,’ and would come home at two in the morning smelling of whiskey.

And now he’d talked his way around into feeling _sorry_ for Nate, and he kind of hated himself for that.  “Do you need to call?”

Bill found the bottom of his glass and his stir-stick intensely interesting. “No. We. Um. I broke up with him. This morning.”

_What?_

Blood thundered in Teddy’s ears and a knot tied itself thick in his chest.

“For good, this time. I told him to move out. And he’s pissed. Which is fair, I suppose.”

“Which is why you were burning the midnight oil at work.” Teddy found words, somewhere. _Just be casual. It wasn’t like this was something new, remember; Bill and Nate had broken up before. More than once, if Kate was to be believed._

“I didn’t want to be there while he was packing. Not on the top ten list of ‘ways I want to spend my Friday night.’” Billy frowned at the bottom of his glass, then picked it up abruptly and shot the last of his drink down his throat.

This was dangerous, cutting too close. Teddy caught himself leaning forward, elbows on the table, ready to reach for Billy’s hand. He could do that now, couldn’t he? He could take Billy’s hand and press his lips against the inside of his wrist and _say_ something-

_Bill and Nate are a soap opera._

No.

Not here and now, while Bill’s boyfriend was busy packing his bags to move out.

Not when Bill and Nate had apparently done this dance a dozen times over a dozen years, and always seemed to find their way back to each other. Not when Teddy and Bill were both two or three sheets to the wind and exhausted.

“We’ve done this before,” Bill kept talking. “I moved out for a while this summer. He talked me into giving him another chance, but it’s just not working anymore.” It came tumbling out like a justification, like Teddy could give him permission to do it. Or like he already had.

_They’ve got a lot_ _o_ _f history, and it’s hard to let that go._

Teddy pulled his hand back and sat up again. “We should call it a night.” He left his glass half-full on the table and reached for his wallet. The wounded surprise in those dark brown eyes was impossible to miss.

It was only there for a second before Bill closed off again, and he had his sarcastic voice on when he replied. “Already? We haven’t even gotten to the point in my breakdown where I start sobbing into my beer.”

“That’s because you’re drinking rye and ginger,” Teddy felt obliged to point out. Bill shoved his chair back and wobbled as he stood, grabbing onto the edge of the table for support.

Jesus; he was going to die before he made it three blocks.

“You’re not going to get to the bus like that,” Teddy jumped to grab Bill’s elbow and stop him from tripping over his own feet. “You almost knocked yourself out once already today while you were completely sober; you’ll end up roadkill if you try now.” Bill gave a short, sharp laugh. “I’ll call a cab.”

The half-turn that Bill made put him right into Teddy’s space, his elbow still cradled in Teddy’s hand. He was flushed hot where his arm and thigh brushed against Teddy, and his lashes were dark against the slope of his cheek. His lips – _jesus, those lips –_ pressed together tightly before he spoke. “I screwed up, didn’t I? I don’t like this ‘being a grownup’ deal. Everything gets too damn complicated.” Bill shut his mouth then, and stopped talking. But he didn’t pull his arm away.

Teddy squeezed gently, the soft cotton wrinkling under his fingers. He could get closer; pull Bill into a hug and hold him there against his chest. But Bill was hurting, his nerves flayed raw, the circles under his eyes darker now than they had been before Teddy had dragged him out.

Taking advantage of him now would make him the worst kind of manipulative jerk. He would be using Bill’s grieving and pain as an easy way in. His stomach clenched at the thought, at where that was taking him, and Teddy’s resolve solidified. “I’ll get you home. You’ll drink some water, shower-”

_Don’t think about him in the shower._

“-and get some sleep. It’s been a long day, and things will be better in the morning.”

\--

He should have bundled Bill into a cab and sent him on his away alone, or paid the cab driver extra to make sure he got into the building. But Bill had tripped on the curb, all coltish limbs and elbows, and it had been sheer dumb luck that Teddy had been right there and able to catch him before he went down. At the time, sliding in beside him in the back seat of the cab had seemed like the only smart thing to do.

It seemed a lot less brilliant now, as they turned the corner and made it up to Bill’s apartment door. The building was a nice one; not really high end, but clean and with a doorman who recognized Bill when they came in. It took Bill a second to get his key in the lock. He was a lot steadier on his feet now than he had been, though.

Even if Teddy hadn't been most of the way to sober already, the way Bill sucked in air and went rigid when he got the door open would have completed the process.

"Mother _fucker_ ," Bill breathed out, and Teddy followed him inside without thinking twice. The light was on.

The place looked like it had been robbed.

Not just robbed; trashed.

They weren’t jumped as they came in the door, but the rush of danger was still singing through Teddy’s veins as the door closed behind them.

The furniture was there - at least Teddy presumed that it was all there; a wooden table and set of four chairs in what passed for a dining nook, a long low leather couch, TV and shelves for books. But the books were strewn everywhere and a shelf had been pulled over, papers and novels, a handful of action figures, spilling out and around it.

A steak knife was stabbed into the table pinning down a square that looked like the back of a photograph. There was something scrawled across it in heavy black marker, and when Teddy got closer he could read the single word. _ASSHOLE_.

Bill was standing in the middle of the room, stunned and a little forlorn. Teddy veered around a turned-over chair and crossed to stand behind him. He laid a hand on Bill's shoulder. Bill leaned into his touch, sank in against Teddy for support. The chill of the air was harsh when Bill pulled away.

“That must have been some fight this morning. Was this before or after the close encounter with door-kind?”

“It wasn’t like that. Everything was fine this morning,” Bill insisted, waving his hands. He reddened at Teddy’s sceptical frown. “Well, not _fine_ , but we agreed to be grownups about it. We were going to move on with our lives. Not... this.” He picked his way across the floor and pulled a chair back up to its feet, glared at the bookcase.

Teddy grabbed a corner of the shelf to help. “You never did tell me what started it.”

The shelves were surprisingly light without the weight of anything on them, and between the two of them they got the unit back up against the wall without too much effort. “Nate saw the photos from the potluck on the department website,” Bill explained as he dusted off his hands. “Jessica put up the one of us kissing, and he had a shit fit.”

Teddy turned and stared at the mess of the apartment. “All this over Tony’s mistletoe? It wasn’t even a _good_ kiss.” But Nate had been jealous already. And long before the party. “Sorry,” Teddy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, the drag of his fingers helping him focus. “That was flippant.”

Bill adjusted the shelf before answering, and he stared down at the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets then took them out again, tension pulling across his shoulders. “It wasn’t just that,” he confessed into the silence. “He read our texts. Between that and the photo and everything... he thinks I’ve been cheating on him. With you.”

He snuck a look up at Teddy then, his movements furtive and unsure. The wave of guilt was immediate. He’d known that; Nate had warned him and Teddy hadn’t paid enough attention. If he’d been better at keeping his distance, or refused Darcy and Cass’s teasing, walked away at the party-

-then Bill would still be living with a guy capable of this kind of temper tantrum..

“I’m sorry,” he offered, not sure exactly what part of it he was apologizing for. “For causing you trouble.” That would do.

“You didn’t,” Bill insisted, and took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. I knew he was all bent out of shape, and it was just one of a long list of things.” He looked down the hallway at an open door that Teddy guessed would be the bedroom. “Damn. Just a minute.”

He headed down the short hall and vanished, leaving Teddy alone with the mess. It was a nice apartment, or at least it would normally be nice, with high ceilings and wood floors, a window set into a brick arch with a seat underneath; Teddy could imagine Bill sitting there with his books, the sunlight falling golden across him.

The light glinted off of something on the floor and Teddy dropped to one knee to look. A couple of pictures had ended up in the pile, their frames broken and glass smashed. One of Bill and Nate, in what was obviously happier days, Nate’s arm looped over Bill’s shoulders. Teddy put that one down.

The other had to be a recent family portrait, everyone in dinner jackets and ties. Bill was sandwiched in between two younger men with vaguely similar colouring, an older couple beside them. The four looked more like each other than any of them resembled Bill. And- Teddy had to grin, couldn’t help it, at the sight of Tom. His pale blond hair was a ridiculous contrast to the others, and he was standing slightly apart from the group. The way he was glancing out of the frame made him look like he was about to make a run for it.   

They looked good, though; happy. Teddy wondered, sometimes, what it would have been like if he'd had a brother - or even a sister. Someone still around who had known him from birth. The uncle he'd seen twice a year for the first sixteen years didn't quite count.

A shuffle and a cough behind him made him look up, and he rose to his feet. “You’ll need new frames for these,” Teddy said, holding out the picture and trying to pretend that he hadn’t just been caught snooping. “Everything okay in there?”

Bill shook his head. “He took all the sheets, and our pillows,” he finished with disgust. “At least my clothes are still there. And it’s too late, nothing’s open. Looks like I’m on the couch tonight.”

“Sure, and walk across broken glass to get to the can tomorrow morning?” Teddy shook his head. “Don’t be stupid.”

What was he doing? He was being impulsive, but fuck it. He’d do this for Kate, or for Eli; why not for Bill?

“Come back to my place. It’s not big, but I have a couch. You can go to Target tomorrow and get some new sheets and stuff.” This wasn’t a dumb idea. He was just being a good friend.

Bill's smile lit him up from the inside and Teddy lost his last few doubts. “Only if you’re sure-“ and a yawn caught him, splitting his face almost in two behind the hand that flew up to hide it.

Teddy grinned. “Yeah. I’m sure. Neither of us is in any shape to start cleaning this up tonight. Get some clothes and a toothbrush and I’ll call another cab. I was going to have to do that anyway, so it’s not like it’ll cost me anything except the second cup of coffee tomorrow morning.”

“Nu-unh. For a rescue like this? I’ll take you for breakfast.”

“At this rate,” Teddy made a show of glancing at his watch. “You’d better make it lunch. Get your crap together and let’s go before we’re late enough that you end up buying me dinner.” And he refused to feel guilty about how right this felt, despite the mess and the drama and the lateness of the hour. As long as they could still joke around like this, it would be fine.

\--

Teddy hadn’t thought this through properly.

The cab ride home had been easy, both of them exhausted and drooping. But then they’d gotten back to Teddy’s apartment and settled in, and Bill had come out of the bathroom wearing thin cotton pajama pants and a faded Captain America t-shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest when he moved.

Bill in his work clothes was one thing, professional and mature with an air of just-this-side-of-rumpled. It made Teddy long to drag his fingers through his hair, get one more button undone, suck a mark into his shoulder that would show through the crisp white shirts. The glasses could stay on.

Billy ready for bed, the way those pants sat low on his hips and outlined the curves of his back, the loose t-shirt that did nothing to hide the clean lines and compact muscle of his arms-

That was just _unfair._

Teddy’s arms tightened involuntarily around the quilt he was holding as he dragged his eyes away. “Uh.” _Oh, swift. Nicely done._ “I thought you could use this,” he proffered the quilt and the extra pillow he’d dug out of the back closet. “I’ve got the heat on but it still gets a bit drafty in here at night. The couch is pretty comfortable, though.”

“It’s great,” Bill replied with sincerity. He sat, tossed his glasses into the pile on the coffee table with his wallet and keys. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“What are friends for?” Teddy shrugged, trying to look casual. His pulse was still racing uncomfortably fast, but he sat down and curled one leg under him anyway. The world was spinning a little, he was so tired. But going to bed now would mean the end of this – whatever it was. This little bubble that the two of them had blown around themselves tonight.

He was close enough that he could reach out and press his toes against Bill’s leg, if he wanted to, just... reach. Make that point of contact and heat and know that he was there. Teddy wiggled his toes and tried to make a rational decision. He could get up now, say goodnight, go to bed. That was the grown-up thing to do. The considered, mature, responsible thing.

He moved his foot, just slightly, and Bill’s thigh was right _there_ , and tense under the soft fabric, and he didn't flinch away. He was also talking, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and chin on his clasped hands, sneaking looks at Teddy as though he could see every last embarrassing, yearning thought that was ping-ponging around inside Teddy’s head.

_Crap. Missed something._

“He said that he knew it, after Hallowe’en,” Bill confessed, and he worried his teeth at the skin at the edge of his thumbnail. The pad of his thumb was pressing a dent into his lower lip, and Teddy wanted to bite it.

“Knew what?” Teddy’s voice was tight when he spoke. Nice. Bill was trying to tell him something important, and all Teddy could think about was his dick.

“That I would end up leaving him for you, one way or another.” There was guilt on Bill’s face and in his eyes, guilt and hesitation and a little bit of panic. “That’s _not_ why I ended it.”

That was a bit of cold water to the face, and Teddy straightened from his comfortable slouch. “Yeah,” Teddy said, and trying to say much more than that was going to make him trip over his tongue and get himself in trouble. “You said something like that back at your place. That he thought we were having an affair.”

“I’m not a cheater,” Bill insisted, turning to face Teddy full-on. “I never would. Even-“

Breathing seemed unimportant, the world slowing to a stop in the depths of Billy’s eyes. “Even what?”

Bill hesitated, blinked hard and tensed like he was about to run. “Even when I really wanted to. Because Nate was wrong about me. But he wasn’t entirely wrong about that.”

Teddy’s lips were dry and he flickered the tip of his tongue across them, moistened his bottom lip and tried to find words. Bill’s eyes were fixed on his lips and he was staring now, his eyes wide and his breath hitching a little.

And then Bill was leaning in and kissing him, one hand sliding into Teddy’s hair. The insistent pressure of his fingers on the side of Teddy’s face held him steady. Bill kept his mouth closed at first, a gentle press against Teddy’s lips, hardly anything more than the sweet half-taste yesterday that had apparently changed everything.

_Fuck responsible._

Teddy kissed him back. Bill’s other hand slid up Teddy’s arm, warm and strong, and they locked behind his head to hold him there. Teddy cupped Billy’s face with his hands, stroked his thumb along the stubble-rough line of Billy’s jaw, slid fingers into his hair to touch and stroke and claim.

“Why haven’t we been doing this all along?” Bill broke away and gasped low.

“You had a boyfriend.”

 “I don’t now.”

Teddy couldn’t breathe. He opened his mouth against Billy’s and let him in, found his strength and pressed up against him. He traced his tongue over the seam of Billy’s lips until he opened up as well and warmdrysoft became hotslicksweet and _dirty_.

He needed friction, needed _more_ ; he shifted his hips and slid down to lie on the couch, Billy above him. He rested his thumbs along the lines of Billy’s jaw, held him in place and licked inside, tasted the mint, the trace of rye still there.

Billy groaned into his mouth, braced his hands on the arm of the couch on either side of Teddy’s head. He rolled down against him, one leg slotting between Teddy’s and their hips fitting together just – just _so_ , and _God._

Everything was tight and hot where Billy’s body touched his, and his breath came in short gasps. Teddy sucked on Billy’s lower lip, bit it lightly, thrust in again with his tongue. It was almost enough, to be inside him like this.

He could spend the rest of his life here; kissing Billy and being kissed, stroking his thumbs along the hard line of Billy’s abs and feeling his breath catch and his stomach clench under Teddy’s touch. The hard ridge of Billy’s cock was pressed against his thigh and Teddy was rocking up into it, his own erection thick and hot, his jeans achingly snug and in the way.

"Ted-" Billy sat back for a second and chuckled low, skating his hands up Teddy’s chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching and pulling under the caress. " _Teddy_. Teddy bear."

The laugh bubbled out of him and Teddy grabbed for Billy again, half-sat to follow. His lips were wet, gleaming a little and flushed. Teddy could imagine what they’d look like around his cock, spit-slick and red, and he _wanted_.

He could have it right now. He could take advantage of Billy’s exhaustion and their friendship, of the natural responses of their bodies. He could strip them both down and take what he wanted, make Billy shudder and arch and scratch his nails down Teddy's sides.

Except that Billy didn’t really mean this.

Billy was raw and hurting and Teddy was there and wanted him, and that was all it was. Even if Billy didn’t regret it in the morning, Teddy would know.

_He’d be back with me before you could get the taste out of your mouth. We belong together._

“Stop, please.” Teddy pulled back and drew a shuddering breath, tried to make his body stand down through sheer force of will.

“What’s wrong?” Billy sat back, confusion written loud on his face. He was dishevelled and glorious, his hair a tangled silk-soft mess. His shirt was rucked up and there was a run of sparse dark hair leading down under the waistband of his pants, and there, _god, there_. He was hard and pressing against the placket of his pajama pants, the fabric yielding and a hint of a wet spot there at the tip. Teddy could just bend down, bend down and run his mouth along it, with lips and teeth and tongue, and Billy wouldn’t say no.

“It’s late,” Teddy choked out, a buzzing loud in his ears and his thoughts a jumbled mess. “We shouldn’t – not like this.” he backed up, tried not to look at Billy’s face, at the cloud that was settling down over him. “Get some sleep,” he repeated. “We should talk. In the morning. When I can make words.”

“Teddy, no – that’s not... at least tell me what I did wrong.”

He stumbled as he stood up, didn’t miss the way Billy was staring at him, at the rock-hard and painful evidence of his desire. “You didn’t, it’s just. It’s almost four in the morning. We’ve been drinking. Neither of us is in any shape to be making decisions like this. Tomorrow? Please?“

Billy deflated, let his hand fall away from Teddy’s arm and his expression was blank and unreadable. “Yeah, sure. Tomorrow.”

Teddy made it to his bedroom, despite the desperate urge to turn around and pick up where they’d left off. How had it escalated so quickly? He was reacting like a kid, all hormones and no brains. He stripped, groaning with relief at the loss of pressure against his groin, and flopped on his bed.

He was still mostly-hard and burning hot, and he fought the temptation to reach down and do something about it. Not with Bill on his couch, just on the other side of the wall.

_Bill, in the apartment, in nothing but pajamas, his skin soft under Teddy’s hands. Wanting Ted just as much as Teddy needed him._

Teddy muffled his frustrated groan in the pillow, jammed his hands firmly underneath it to keep himself from doing something hopelessly rude and utterly unhelpful.

He had time for only one last thought before sleep pulled him down into darkness. _If he jerks off on my couch, I’m going to kill him._

\-- 

It was close to eleven by the time Teddy rolled out of bed, his head fuzzy. The apartment was silent as his feet hit the floor. Had Bill already gone? Teddy couldn’t blame him if he had. This wasn’t even the normal awkward of a morning-after.

It would make sense for Bill to hate him. He'd led Bill on, after all. He'd flirted and kissed and touched and then stopped them cold. No-one ever died of blue balls, but it didn't mean a guy wanted to hang around, after.

And they had to work together for the next few years, at least.

Jesus. When Teddy screwed up, at least he screwed up big.

He threw on some clothes and padded out into the hall, dared to sneak a glance at the couch as he passed by.

Bill was still there and apparently slept like the dead. He was sprawled on his front, one arm dragging on the floor, the quilt bunched unevenly around his waist. His mouth had fallen open and he might have drooled a little, the soft susurrations of his breathing not quite approaching a snore.

He shifted and muttered something in his sleep and Teddy turned away quickly. Getting caught staring wasn’t going to help matters. Bill slept through Teddy trying desperately to find things that could count as breakfast, only making an appearance at the kitchen door once the coffee pot had beeped and the smell of it filled the room.

“Hey,” Teddy smiled a little hesitantly. Billy was stubbly and bleary-eyed, the bruise on his face settling into purple and his hair smashed up in a half-dozen directions.

“Hey yourself.” Billy said with a hesitant smile, and stopped beside Teddy where he leaned against the counter.

His mouth was soft, Teddy’s treacherous hindbrain reminded him. Soft and warm and he’d kissed Teddy like a drowning man searching for air.

“Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“It’s not a problem.” It was. It was a major problem, and he was going to have a very difficult time forgetting about the warm, wet slide of Billy’s tongue against his, the taste of his mouth; how their bodies had fit together so perfectly, Billy’s hips snugged up against his. “About last night.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, I get it.” Billy looked away and grabbed for the empty mug Teddy had left for him.

“Yeah, we do, and no, you don’t.” Billy looked, then, and the wariness was back, and god that hurt, knowing he’d been the one to put it there. “Because I like you. I think you're amazing. And that’s why we can’t do this. Not right now.”

And the hurt was dark in Bill’s eyes, making that dark liquid brown even darker. He put the mug down and took a halting step back. “What’s that supposed to mean? You like me so much that you don’t want to be with me? In what world does that make sense?”

“That’s not it,” Teddy pleaded softly. “Please? I want it – _you_ – more than anything. If you don’t believe anything else I ever say to you, believe _that_.”

“I hear the ‘but’ coming, so can we just get this over with?” He was angry, had every right to be, and Teddy fought to find the right words.

“But. You just broke up with the guy you’ve been with since what, high school?”

“Undergrad,” Bill muttered, a crease marking the frown between his eyes.

“And I know what it feels like to be walking away from something that was a part of you for so long; the way it was so good and so bad at the same time; how it can mess with your head even years later.”

And he wasn’t going to think about Greg, not now, not when he had maybe fifteen seconds left to explain before Billy grabbed his pants and stormed out of the apartment altogether. He reached out, cupped Billy’s jaw in his hands, the roughness and the heat on Teddy’s palms a reminder that this wasn’t a dream. “I want you for _real_. Not as a rebound, or because you’re hurting and I’m available. I want _us_ to be real. So I’ll wait. And after things have settled down -“

“If you’re planning to wait around until I can get my head screwed on right, Ted Altman,” Billy laughed, but it was a twisted and wry sound, with no joy in it. “We’re going to be very old men before you get another kiss.”

“S’alright,” Teddy affected a shrug, even though the ache inside that had started last night had grown large enough to consume him. He tipped his head forward just a bit, to rest his forehead against Billy’s, to breathe him in. Just for a moment.

He drew back reluctantly, felt Billy try to lean into him as he did. “It’ll give me time to mark those goddamn term papers.”

And against all odds, Billy began to laugh.

It was easier to keep things light after that, just, coffee and toast and finding Billy a clean pair of socks.

Billy didn’t mention lunch again, and Teddy didn’t remind him.

At the door, his bag by his feet, Billy hauled his jacket on and turned to face Teddy. “Thanks again. For, uh, everything, I guess.” His smile was hesitant and slow. “I don’t suppose there’s much chance of getting one more for the road?” And his gaze dropped to Teddy’s lips.

Teddy hesitated for only a second. “I can’t see the harm in that.” Except that oh, he was in trouble. Because Billy’s lips parted for him again when they touched, and Bill ran the tip of his tongue just along Teddy’s lower lip before darting in. Then their bodies were tight together again, Teddy’s arms curling automatically around Bill’s waist to pull him closer.

He splayed his hand out along Bill’s side and felt the play of his muscles, the rise and fall of his breathing. Billy’s hands clenched in the fabric of his sleeves, fisted there as his tongue played in Teddy’s mouth, over and again.

Teddy pulled back, a bit breathless. “I, uh.”

“I’ll see you, I guess.” Bill sounded a little strangled. Teddy forced himself not to look down; he already knew exactly why.

“Yeah,” he got out, his own voice oddly pitched in his ears. “My flight home leaves on Wednesday – I. I’ll see you in January. If we don’t run into each other before that.”

“Merry Christmas, then?”

And Teddy wanted to laugh, the hysterics bubbling up in his chest, because _really_? But what else was there to say? This was what he’d asked for, even knowing what they both wanted. It was utterly, sublimely ridiculous. But there it was.

"Merry Christmas."

Billy left and Teddy watched him walk down the hall, until he vanished around the corner. Teddy let the door close, sagged back against the wall and groaned. His skin was tight and hot and every nerve ending in his body was screaming at him for being such a moron, and-

And now he _knew_ what Bill Kaplan’s mouth tasted like, and how he moved when he kissed, how his hair got all spiky first thing in the morning, and how his body felt under Teddy’s fingers, sleek and strong.

Fuck. He was hard. His cock was aching and tight, had been hard since Billy had kissed him. And he could still taste Billy on his lips, could close his eyes and bring back the feeling of their bodies pressed together, the heat and smell of him seeping into Teddy’s pores and making a home there. He palmed himself through his jeans, pressed up against the pressure of his hand to try and take the edge off.

He _wanted_. Now. Before the moment became a memory, and he started to lose the details: how it might feel to cup his hands around Billy’s ass, taste the muscles in his legs. Or to run his tongue down along the length of his neck, bite the place where it became his shoulder. Billy had smelled bright, a citrus edge to his aftershave or cologne; something fresh that overlaid the warm smell that was purely him.

Teddy opened his jeans and stroked himself before he could talk himself out of it. He slid his hand down between his boxers and his stomach, coiling his fingers around his aching dick. He was already leaking a little, used his thumb to smear it over the head of his cock. He shivered at the rush of sensation, gave in to the urge to thrust up into his fist. The rough drag of the calluses on his fingers was too familiar, too dry. He didn’t care. _Fuck._ He could have been with Billy right now.

Maybe he’d be down on his knees in front of Teddy, his mouth open and greedy. Billy would suck him in, his tongue pink and wet, teasing and light over the head of Teddy’s cock. Maybe he’d slip a hand behind to cup Teddy’s balls while he did it, tug and mouth them, then slide two fingers further back and-  

He was coming before he could carry the fantasy any further, the aching pit of need deep in his gut sparking up and down his spine. It burned and flashed and exploded out of him, hot and sticky over his hand, over the waistband of his jeans and boxers that he hadn’t pushed down far enough. He pressed against the wall to hold himself up as his knees went weak and his legs shook with the rush.

He was so unbelievably _stupid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Tradition demands a kiss” is a callout to [The Better Men](http://archiveofourown.org/works/304462/chapters/486827), a brilliant XMFC/Harry Potter fusion fic by turtletotem. That might be the fic that finally gets me to read the damn Potter books (no, I haven’t read them yet, and I still fell in love with everything about this story. Go read it. Seriously.)


	6. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some plan minutes get horribly abused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as a quick scene that was supposed to last maybe ten lines and start the next full chapter. It grew legs on me while I wasn't looking, and while it's not long enough to be a real chapter in and of itself, it's too long to be part of January, either. 
> 
> Work is still insane right now but will be calming down considerably in February; I hope to have the next chapter done somewhere in the next few weeks. In the meantime, have this interlude! 
> 
> Thanks and love to feebleapb for the beta and suggestions!

**_Winter Recess - Saturday, December 22 - Sunday, January 6_**  
\--

 

 **Ted A: Hey**................................... **[Text message sent: 4:30 pm / 12/18/12]**

Bill Kaplan: Hey

**Ted A: How're things?**

Bill Kaplan: Not bad. Got term marks in, avoiding parents + 'quality family time'. Same old same.

Bill Kaplan: What's up?

**Ted A: Not much. Just wanted to check in. Make sure we were okay.**

Bill Kaplan: We're okay.

**Ted A: Cool.**

**Ted A: No weirdness in January, then**

Bill Kaplan: I can't promise 'no weirdness'. You know our campus. 

**Ted A: Fair point.**

Bill Kaplan: I’ve got to go; I'm supposed to be @ Jacob's for dinner in fifteen minutes.

**Ted A: Should I be worried?**

Bill Kaplan: Only if you have something against annoying younger brothers. Which would be reasonable. But if having competition would help...

**Ted A: heh. Point - > .  You --.-------> Have fun.**

\--  
 **[Text message received: 1:38 pm / 12/20/12]**

Bill Kaplan: Do you know anything about the new pay scale for research assistants?  
  
 **Ted A: Not sure. Check the HR website?**  
  
Bill Kaplan: Did that; nothing's updated. Damn. Your flight got in ok?  
  
 **Ted A: Yeah. The car broke down and we had to grab a bus, but it wasn't so bad. Got some reading done. What are you working on?**  
  
Bill Kaplan: Grant app. Due @ research services beginning of Jan. Kill me.

**Ted A: That bad? I haven't seen the new forms.**

Bill Kaplan: It’s bad.

Bill Kaplan: WTF is a ‘Knowledge Mobilization Plan’? “It will grow legs and WALK INTO YOUR BRAIN.” That's mobilization.

**Ted A: Maybe the world really will end tomorrow and you won’t have to finish it.**

Bill Kaplan: It better not; I’ve invested too many hours in this to have it go to waste now.

Bill Kaplan: I'm ready to throw myself off the nearest rooftop.   
  
 **Ted A: Don't do it, Sherlock. Think of all you have to live for.**  
  
Bill Kaplan: Anyone ever tell you that you watch too much tv?  
  
 **Ted A: Says the man with the complete scifi channel movie library. I saw your dvd collection, dude.**  
  
Bill Kaplan: Don't dis the Sharktopus. It'll eat your face. 

\--

 **Ted A: And I just got a paper rejection from Ren and Ref. Standard ‘lovely job, reviewers hated it, try again later.’**.......... **[Text message sent: 9:11 am / 12/24/12]**

Bill Kaplan: Never read the reviewers’ comments; it’ll drive you to drink.

Bill Kaplan: You’re reading them, aren’t you?

**Ted A: I’m a glutton for punishment. Notice how I’m still talking to you.**

Bill Kaplan: Ooh, burn. Very nice. Did you stay up at night rehearsing that?

**Ted A: Your superpower: inspiring sarcasm at 20 paces**

Bill Kaplan: Your superpower: getting your ass kicked

\--

**[Text message received: 11:07 pm / 12/26/12]**

Bill Kaplan: Are you up?

**Ted A: Rude**

Bill Kaplan: Not what I meant, but hah

**Ted A: Yeah, I’m here (obviously). Why are you? Isn’t it 2 in the morning in NYC?**

Bill Kaplan: I can’t sleep, and calling someone in this time zone now is basically asking to be murdered.

**Ted A: So this is because I’m three hours behind EST right now, not because of my sparkling personality**

Bill Kaplan: Six of one?

**Ted A: I’m flattered.**

Bill Kaplan: You should be. I don’t abuse the good will and generous Christmas spirit of just anyone, you know.

**Ted A: It’s an honor just to be nominated.**

**Ted A: So what’s keeping you up?**

**Ted A: Awake. I mean AWAKE.**

Bill Kaplan: Spoilsport. 

**Ted A:** **Seriously. You're texting at 2 am; something's not right.**

**Ted A: Spill.**

Bill Kaplan: You're actually asking, not just 'humor the crazy insomniac'?

**Ted A:** **Yeah. Actually asking.**

**Ted A:** **Bill?**

Bill Kaplan: Holidays are weird this year.

Bill Kaplan: It’s the first time in twelve years I haven’t been at Nate’s parents’ place for Christmas. Hung out with Tommy instead.

Bill Kaplan: I keep feeling like I’ve forgotten to do something. Or be somewhere. Like that thing where you’re sure you left the oven on, but more so. 

**Ted A: Twelve years is a long time; it’ll take a while to get used to. It’s a basically a divorce.**

Bill Kaplan: Thank god that didn’t happen.

Bill Kaplan: I can’t imagine dealing with legal bullshit right now on top of everything else.

Bill Kaplan: At least this way we got to walk away with our dignities semi-intact.

Bill Kaplan: Mine, anyway.

**Ted A:** **You have dignity?**

Bill Kaplan: Jerk.

**Ted A:** **I thought I was good-willed + generous?**

Bill Kaplan: If you're gonna throw my own words back at me like that, sure.

**Ted A:** **Next time don't leave a paper trail.**

**Ted A:** **Things won't always be weird.**

**Ted A:** **The first few Christmases after my mom died were awful. It's not the same, of course, but it's not all different either? All the expectations you had for what your life would be like just died.**

**Ted A:** **It takes time to get over things like that, even when it was justified euthanasia.**

Bill Kaplan: I realized today I’ve never had a real breakup before. Jimmy dumping me after three weeks in tenth grade doesn’t count.

Bill Kaplan: How long will it take before I stop jumping when my phone rings?

**Ted A:** **Doesn't matter. I'm not going anywhere.**

Bill Kaplan: ...

Bill Kaplan: How are you even real?

**Ted A:** **I ponder that question constantly.**

Bill Kaplan: Seriously. Not joking. You're kind, and funny, and patient and _gorgeous_ -

**Ted A:** **Good night, B.**

Bill Kaplan: I can’t figure out why you’re hanging around _me_

**Ted A:** **If you can’t figure it out, I’m certainly not going to explain.**

**Ted A:** **Now go to bed.**

Bill Kaplan: Bossy.

**Ted A:** **Bed.**

Bill Kaplan: g’night.

\--

**[Text message received: 7:53 am / 12/27/12]**

Billy: For the record, texting after midnight is equivalent to texting while drunk.

Billy: I can't be held accountable.

**Ted A:** **No take-backs.**

Billy: Since when?

**Ted A:** **Since you called me gorgeous.**

**Ted A** **: Which would mean more if you weren’t blind as a bat.**

Billy: Shut it, or I’ll sic my seeing-eye dog on you.

\--

The mirror on Ted's bedroom wall was an antique.

_It wasn’t his bedroom anymore, it hadn’t been in thirteen years, but his aunt still called it that when he asked where he could put his bag._

The glass was a little warped by time, his reflection shifted just slightly off-familiar. Teddy ignored the distortion and smoothed down the front of his shirt. Blue button-down, t-shirt, chinos, it was hardly exciting. What _was_ the dress code for 'a New Year’s party given by high school friends you haven't had a real conversation with in ten years'? 

The earrings could come out; that would complete the transformation. The rows of silver hoops were the last remnants of the angry kid with the leather cuffs and combat boots who'd shown up in junior year, so desperately alone. How long would it take some of them to make the connection between their memories and the man staring back from the mirror now? 

He left the earrings in. 

The shirt, though; maybe _that_ wasn't right. He reached for the green one that he'd tried and rejected twice already, but his phone rang - rang, not beeped with the specific beep that meant a text from Billy - and he grabbed _it_ instead.

"Hello?" Teddy answered, not glancing at the call display.

There was a ton of background noise, like someone was calling from the middle of a riot, and after a second he recognized Billy's voice in the epicenter. He was laughing. "Ted, It's Bill! Happy new year!"  
  
"You're way too early, dork,” Teddy flopped down on the edge of his bed. His reflection was grinning dopily at him and he turned away. “It's not even nine here. Where are you?"   
  
"Yeah, well. Time zones, for the win. I'm at Tony's. He does a big thing every year; I think half the faculty are here. Except you, of course.”

"Is that Ted?" Darcy's voice echoed in the background. “Hi, sweetie!" she hollered and Teddy laughed, his anxiety melting away under the sudden bloom of warmth in his core. A burst of longing followed, an odd sense of ‘homesick’ that hit him like it had the first time he’d left New York.     
  
He let himself fall backward onto the bed, ignoring the shirt that was wrinkling under his back. "Who let Darcy into the champagne, and can they be fired?"

“God knows,” Bill replied, his rich, warm tenor bright with the edge of laughter. “But you’ll never guess who she brought as her plus-one to this shindig.”

“Who?”

“ _Tommy_.”

Teddy blinked at the ceiling. “As in your brother, Tommy? Hunh.” _Hunh._ “I wouldn’t have called that one.” Though if he thought about it, it made a certain kind of sense – Darcy was a lot like Kate, unafraid to speak her mind. Granted, the things on Darcy’s mind were extraordinarily different than those on Kate’s, but if you liked brunettes with a certain kind of innate self-confidence-

Eli was going to be ecstatic.

Not that it would do him much good, but hope springs eternal.

Billy started to say something and was cut off by a voice in the background. Pepper, if Teddy had to guess. There was a brief exchange of muffled voices, then he heard Pepper loud and clear as the tinny echo ended. “It’s just about time.”

“I’ve got Ted here – hang on.” There was a bumping noise and Teddy grinned at the ceiling, counting the familiar pattern of dots in the tiles as he waited. “Ted?” Bill was back. “I’m putting you on speaker.”

There was a chorus of voices in the background, the sound shifting a little in timbre. “Hi, Ted!” That was Pepper again, Tony repeating her from further away. And then they were all shouting hellos, and Darcy was calling him names for not being there, and Teddy was laughing, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, because they were all _ridiculous_.

“10! 9! 8!” He could pick out Steve and Peggy, Carol, was that Cassie in the background? If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine that he was there. He was there in Tony’s living room (whatever it looked like) one arm wrapped around Bill, a glass of champagne in his hand, surrounded by friends.

“4! 3! 2!” And Bill, the voice in his ear, making sure that he was with them all when the countdown finished.

“Happy new year!”

Cheers erupted on the other end of the line, and were those horns? Trust Tony Stark to have something involving air horns. The music kicked back up and he couldn’t hear a thing beyond the ruckus, until it all began to recede.

There was a soft click as he came off speaker phone, a soft thud of- a door? Then there was just the faint noise of people and traffic in the distance. “So there we are,” Bill said, and there was a smile still in his voice. “I got you here despite your cruel temporary exile from the center of the universe.”

“That was awesome; thank you,” Teddy replied, that glow settled in the middle of himself expanding out to make his toes and fingers flush warm.

A glance at the clock, though, and he was rolling to his feet. “I have to get out of here, unfortunately; I was supposed to be at this party half an hour ago.”

“No problem.” There was a hint of disappointment there, or was it a trick of the line? “I’ll probably head home soon myself. Give me a call tomorrow if you’re not too hung over?”

Jacket, wallet, keys- Teddy patted his pockets to make sure he had everything. To hell with the fact that he’d already RSVPed, and to hell with the drive to Karen’s house. All he really wanted to do right now was sprawl back on his bed and use up every last one of Billy’s long distance minutes, ring in the new year with him one more time before they fell asleep.

“Yeah,” he said, instead. “Absolutely.” And then he hung up, and left.

\--

 **Ted A: It’ll be morning for you by the time you get this, but whatever – happy new year mark 2**............................ **[Text message sent: 12:01 am / 01/01/13]**

Billy: happy new year

**Ted A: Tell me you weren’t waiting up**

Billy: Not waiting. Phone on the nightstand

**Ted A: You’re nuts.**

Billy: I’m adorable

**Ted A: Go to bed, B.**

Billy: g’night gracie

\--

**[Text message received: 2:12 pm / 01/01/13]**

Billy: Hey

 

**[Text message received: 8:43 pm / 01/02/13]**

Billy: You’re not still hungover, are you?

 

**[Text message received: 9:32 am / 01/03/13]**

Billy: Did I do something wrong? Where are you?

 

**[Text message received: 7:12 pm / 01/03/13]**

Billy: Don’t make me start calling all the Altmans in the Portland phone book, because you know I will. Just let me know that you’re alive.

**Ted A: I’m here. And that wouldn’t have worked anyway – my uncle’s last name is White. Mom’s brother.**

Billy: So what happened? Is everyone okay?

**Ted A: Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. It’s nothing.**

Billy: ‘Nothing’ doesn’t cause three days of radio silence. C’mon.

Billy: Ted?

**Ted A: It’s really nothing. It’s just weird being back.**

Billy: Weird how? Like Children of the Corn weird, or just your low-level ‘my god, the prom king is going bald’ reunion kind of weird?

**Ted A: Yes, no, I don’t know? Both?**

Billy: Cryptic.

 **Ted A: It’s strange to see people you spent years of your life with,** **and realize you had no impact on them at all. To learn how little you mattered.**

Billy: You matter to people, Ted.

Billy: You matter to me.

Billy: I’m people.

**Ted A: It’s alright, honest. It’ll pass. I’m just looking forward to coming home.**

Billy: Do you have Skype on your laptop? Texting this much is murder on my thumbs

**Ted A: Yeah**

**Ted A: Why?**

Billy: Movie night. Make yourself some popcorn. You and me across the miles.

**Ted A: What?**

Billy: You need to get out of your head for a while, I have the perfect solution. Trust in Dr. Kaplan. E-mail incoming.

**Ted A: Your Skype ID is ‘Wiccan’? I thought you were Jewish?**

Billy: I am, and it’s a long story. There may have been a WoW character involved.

**Ted A: Of course there was. Nerd.**

Billy: Would you just sign on, already? I’m getting carpal thumb-al syndrome and it’s your fault.

\--

**[Text message received: 6:23 pm / 01/05/13]**

Billy: Get your butt on Skype; ‘Pterodactyl’ isn’t going to watch itself.

 **Ted A: I’m home tomorrow; maybe it would be easier to hold the next movie night until I get** **back?**

Billy: Sure, but not for this. When you get home, I’m introducing you to the collected works of William Castle

**Ted A: who?**

Billy: Scream for your lives!

Billy: Now presenting... ZOTZ!

Billy: Filmed in PERCEPTO-VISION

**Ted A: I don’t know you.**

Billy: You just can’t handle the awesome that is PERCEPTO-VISION

**Ted A: Make you a deal. I’ll sit through your Crap Cinema Special, but you’re coming with me to Film Forum next week – they’re showing Hero. Get some real culture on.**

Billy: Deal.

**Ted A: I’m signing in now.**

\--

**[Text message received: 6:37 am / 01/06/13]**

Billy: Did you end up making your flight? XD

**Ted A: At the airport – boarding in a couple of minutes.**

Billy: Have a safe trip. See you tomorrow!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Teddy’s reference to “Ren and Ref” is a mention of the scholarly journal [“Renaissance and Reformation,”](%E2%80%9D) based out of the University of Toronto. It is one of the main journals for early modern studies, and publishes about sixteen - twenty papers a year across four issues. 
> 
> \- William Castle was a film director, mostly famous for his work on gimmick-laden B-movies through the 50s and 60s. His version of _The House on Haunted Hill_ , for instance, was billed as having been filmed in “Emergo,” which meant that a glow-in-the-dark skeleton would emerge from a hidden compartment in the theatre during the movie and fly over the audience, while for _Tingler_ , he had theatres place shock buzzers in selected seats in order to zap audience members at key points during the show. His movies still hold up reasonably well even without the gimmicks.
> 
> \- _Hero_ is a Jet Li film from 2002. While it’s technically a wuxia film (martial arts flick), the cinematography and art direction are mind-blowingly spectacular. Highly recommended.
> 
>  - _Pterodactyl_ is a real movie. That is, it exists on celluloid and can be watched. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.


	7. January (Part 1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein things start fresh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to feebleapb for the beta work, as always, and to xandertheundead for the pinch-hit grammar workup. All mistakes are mine, not theirs. 
> 
> This chapter got ridiculously long, and a bit unwieldy. I couldn't lose any of it, but felt bad putting it up in a length which might be a problem for those reading on mobile devices, so I've split it in half - each one is about the size of one of my smaller regular chapters anyway. So this is part one, part two will be posted shortly.
> 
> (All the porn's in that one.)

**January, Part 1:**

**_Classes Begin - Monday, January 7_ **

**_Holiday: Martin Luther King Day (No Classes) - Monday, January 21_ **

**_Grad/Fac Seminar (Speaker: Dr. T. Cassidy) – Friday, January 25_ **

\--

 

From: [t.altman@nycu.edu](mailto:t.altman@nycu.edu)

To: [n.romanova@nycu.edu](mailto:n.romanova@nycu.edu)

I believe the point has been made. Can we arrange a time for the extra chairs to be removed?

 

Dr. Altman

 

From: [n.romanova@nycu.edu](mailto:n.romanova@nycu.edu)

To: [t.altman@nycu.edu](mailto:t.altman@nycu.edu)

 

The chairs have been tagged and entered into the system, and cannot be removed from the office at this time.

N. Romanova

Client Services

Facilities Management

 

Even keeping three of the chairs for his office, the stack of boxes made an impressive pile in the hallway. Teddy’s eye was twitching harder the longer he stared at them. He slapped the ‘For Pickup’ label on the pile and strode off toward the department lounge. It was going to drive him nuts having to pass by the pile every time he entered or left his office, but what other choice did he have?

Sooner or later, they were going to have to come and get them.

His mailbox was already jammed tight with the regular junk that heralded the beginning of a new term. Teddy stood over the overflowing wastebasket and flipped through the pile, tossing things as he came to them. _TA forms – keep. Beerfest sponsorship; toss. Curling competition? Toss. People actually played that?_

A pair of arms slid lightly around his ribs and squeezed. “Welcome back, hot stuff,” Darcy teased, slipping past to fit a couple of envelopes into some of the other boxes. “Ready to face the eye-rolling hordes for round two?”

Teddy grinned and tugged at one of her curls as she bounced by. “I was born ready,” he joked, already feeling the strain across his shoulders loosen and dissolve away. “I think it’ll be a good term.”

“That it will. They’re doing quiz nights at the grad house this term; first one’s on Saturday. You in?”

Teddy shook his head as he finished going through the pile of paper. _Vegans Against Tuition Hikes?_ “Sorry, Darce; not this week. I have plans.”

The light in her eye when he said that should have been his first clue that he’d made a serious tactical error.

“Plans, do you?” Darcy insinuated herself between Teddy and the mailboxes, and grinned up at him. “What _sort_ of plans, Teddy Ruxpin?”

“Hey now. It’s just ‘catching a movie’ plans, nothing exciting.” He headed around the corner but Darcy was trailing him, a hound on the scent.

“A date!” she exclaimed cheerfully, and boosted herself up to sit on the counter in the lounge. She was just about his height this way, her thick-framed glasses pushed up on the top of her head to hold her hair at least nominally in check. “Spill. Is he cute?”

“It’s not a date,” Teddy insisted, keeping his eyes resolutely on the mug on front of him and the pot of hot coffee. “I’m going to see a movie with- a friend.”

He stumbled but only barely. He didn’t have to keep Bill’s name out of it; it wasn’t any secret that they were friends. But given the mood Darcy was in, if he _did_ say anything, gossip would have him and Billy not only dating but part of some kind of torrid long-term love affair by the end of the day.

“I have guy friends that I’m not into, you know.” _Not_ this _one, but that’s hardly the point._

Darcy pursed her lips, and that was definitely her ‘disappointed’ face. “So he’s not gay, is what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, he is. Wait. That’s not the point, Darce. Straight men and women can be just-friends. So can queer guys.”

“You enjoy his company.” She poked him in the shoulder.

“That’s hardly-“

“You find him intellectually stimulating?”

“Darcy, can we not-“

“You want to do obscene things to his naked and quivering body,” she declared with a certain amount of satisfaction.

Teddy’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and his ears flushed hot.

“It’s so a date. Give him time,” she soothed, so off the mark that she was going to end up on the fucking moon. “He’ll realize it too.”

“Go away, Darcy,” Teddy insisted. He collected his mug and headed for the hallway without waiting for her to reply.

His boxes were waiting for him.

“Building yourself a pyramid?” Eli jibed as he walked by, but he ducked into the department office instead of waiting for a response. Teddy was still sorting through his keys to find the one for his door by the time Eli reappeared with his mail in hand. Teddy gave up on the one-handed key-fumble and fell into easy step with Eli as he headed back to his office.

“Come on in. I’d come hang out in yours, but I’m waiting for a phone call. How was the flight?”

“Sucked.” Teddy followed him in and took over Eli’s guest chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I got stuck between two screaming kids on one side and The Honeymooners on the other. How was your Christmas?”

“Really good. Grandma sent me home with a half-dozen containers of leftovers, though. Every Christmas I think wow – turkey! I should have this more often. And then I remember why I can’t touch it eleven months of the year.”

“Did she make pumpkin pie again? I could take that off your hands.” The coffee was hot and nutty when he took a sip; another one of Pepper’s weird expensive blends. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. “Did you see anyone over break?”

“You heard about Darcy and Tom, I take it.”

“Bill told me, yeah. Are they really dating?”

“Apparently. And before you ask, no, that doesn’t mean I moved in on Kate. She’s been pretty clear.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Teddy affected innocence as best he could.

Eli scowled. “Then you’re the only one.” He swung back in his chair, though, clasped his hands behind his head in a gesture of studied nonchalance. “And I get the whole ‘need to focus on my career, no time for anything serious’ thing. I _do_. I wouldn’t like her half as much if she wasn’t so amazingly dedicated.”

“But?”

Eli’s eyes darted to the desk calendar in front of him, every date meticulously filled in with notes and times. “By the time my dad was my age, he already had three kids. He sucks as a role model, but really. When _is_ a good time for something serious, if not now? We’re established in our careers; Kate got tenure last year. You can’t just expect the skies to open and announce ‘now! Now! Go forth and establish a meaningful connection with another human being.’” He waved one hand in the air in demonstration. “There are timelines for these things.”

Teddy had a suspicion, and he very maturely resisted the urge to laugh. “You had it scheduled, didn’t you?”

“Damn straight,” Eli jabbed a finger at his desk calendar with a grin. “PhD by 28, marriage by 32, kids by 35 so the youngest will be out of my hair and into a dorm room in time to let me retire at 60. Time’s wasting.”

It was kind of nice to know that he wasn’t the only one in this group of theirs who was seriously screwed up when it came to relationships. “You’re over-thinking this,” Teddy laughed.

“That’s probably true.” Eli replied. He flicked an eyebrow upward, his mood shifting. “On a different subject,” he drawled, and Teddy could see it coming- “Darcy pinned me down in the office just now. She said you have a mystery date? I thought bros told each other these things.”

Teddy was going to kill her. Or hide under his desk until it all went away. “It’s not a date.”

“She seemed pretty sure it was a date.”

Eli was leaning forward with his interrogation-face on, and Teddy was only saved by the phone ringing. Eli scowled and held up a hand, kicked forward so his feet landed on the floor again. “Sorry – I’ve got to get this.”

Teddy wrapped both hands around his coffee and sipped at it while he waited.

“No, you ordered fourteen copies of volume forty. I needed forty copies of volume fourteen,” Eli said into the phone, the scowl settling in to stay.  “...I didn’t even know there was a volume forty.

“No, for the love of god; don’t put it on the shelves. Some of them might actually buy it.”

He mouthed a silent apology at Teddy, and mimed shooting himself in the head. Teddy bit back a chuckle and rose to his feet. Eli’s door closed softly behind him as he left.

A small rubber ball rolled by.

The barking yellow torpedo hit him from the right, knocking his feet out from under him and sending his coffee flying. Teddy yelped and caught himself against the wall. Two girls ran by in hot pursuit, the blonde in front grabbing for the leash that the large golden retriever was dragging behind him.

“Cap, no! Stop! No! Sorry!”

“Oh my god you crazy dog! Stop! Down sit STAY!”

The dog skidded out at the end of the hall and took off around the corner, the girls scrabbling and scrambling to follow suit. He heard one last plaintive wail in among the whirlwind of barking before silence fell again.

The fabric sticking to his thighs was hot and wet, and his coffee a spreading pool on the floor. Teddy bent to pick up his mug (not chipped, thankfully, despite the fall), and tried to wipe himself down. No good; he needed paper towels, and water-

The dog barked again, somewhere off in the distance. Teddy started walking back to the lounge. One shoe squished in time with his footsteps.

He heard Steve and Jess before he turned the corner, Steve’s voice clear and distinct. “Are you hiding?  
  
“I’m not hiding, I’m avoiding,” Jess clarified. Teddy made a little half-wave to her as he came in, made a beeline for the counter and the roll of towels there. “They're camped out in front of my office again."

Steve flipped through his mail and frowned at her. "Who are?"

"'I wrote my name on the exam so that should count for two points' kid, and 'your grading rubric is massively unfair and now I won't get into law school' kid. Thankfully, 'I skipped most of your lectures because I was hung over but I tried real hard and deserve points for that' kid appears to be taking the day off. Hi, Ted."

Thank god he’d worn black pants. Teddy blotted the worst of the coffee out of the fabric and threw the wad of paper towels into the garbage can. Nothin’ but net. “Hi, guys.”

Jess gave him a little golf-clap at his throw and patted the chair next to her. “Did you have a good trip?”

Teddy grabbed the chair and turned it to sit. “It was nice to see my folks for a while, but it was quiet.” Was that barking getting closer?

“It’s smart to get away from the craziness for a while,” Steve nodded. “Did you get much of a chance to relax?”

The low and distant noise was definitely getting nearer, the barking louder every passing second. At least eight feet were stampeding back down the hall, punctuated with gasps and “stop!” and “no, dumb dog!”

“You can’t have that dog in here!” Eli’s voice rose above the general din.

“Head him off!”

“Izzie, go around!”

More running, then Teddy heard a yelp and a slide of fur against tile, and he knew – he couldn’t see anything from here and yet he knew with absolute certainty and he held his breath-

There was a deafening slam and a shriek and a yelp of outrage.

And then the sound of exactly sixteen boxes thump-thump-tumbling to the ground.

There was a pause.

The barking started again, and there was Eli shouting. A pair of female voices tumbled over one another with explanations and Pepper stomped out of the office with a look of murder in her eye. Teddy’s pants were covered in coffee, dark enough to hide the stains, but not the smell of dark roast that was going to follow him around the rest of the day. Doors were slamming down the hallway, and Darcy was out in the hall making cooing noises to the dog. Janet the Custodian was going to be offended for weeks, half the department was obsessed with his social life and he was surrounded by _lunatics_.

And nowhere else in the world (not since mom) had ever felt so much like home.

Teddy didn’t bother trying to hide the grin.

“Yeah, I did. But it’s really, really good to be back.”

\--

“I saw you; you totally teared up at the end. Don’t even try to deny it.” Teddy bumped his arm against Billy’s as they jostled through the crowd down the hall toward the lobby.

He loved the old art-house theater with its tiny screening rooms and real popcorn. It looked like they’d replaced some of the seats in the last fifteen years (though his aching tailbone wasn’t entirely sure), but other than that it was exactly the same as the last time he’d been here. _Before_.

The French films had been his mother’s favorites, and she’d brought him to them all once he’d started taking the language in junior high. ‘It’ll help improve your ear,’ she’d said, and counted their movie trips in his homework log. He’d felt so special, so grown-up, sitting with her over coffee afterwards; she’d listened like his dumb kid observations had been as worthwhile as anyone else’s.  

Being crammed in to the small screening room beside Billy had been distracting, Billy leaning in close to see the subtitles around the head of the guy in front. Teddy had brushed Billy’s hand more than he should, grabbing for popcorn, tussling a little over armrest space. He could have reached out a half-dozen times over the course of the film, bumped it with his own too insistently to be an accident. Could have slid his fingers through Billy’s and settled there, Billy’s hand in his and their fingers entwined.

Except that was the kind of thing you did on a _date_. 

“Because that was an utter bait and switch,” Billy complained, dragging him back to the here-and-now. He bumped Teddy’s arm right back, and shot a furtive glance at Teddy’s side before jamming his hands casually into his pockets. “You don’t suggest a kung-fu movie to a guy-“

“Wire-work, not kung-fu.”

“-and then deliver a romantic tragedy in four acts.”

“But you agree it was good.” Teddy stepped aside to a slightly emptier corner of the lobby and waited for an answer.

“It was brilliant.” Billy stopped as well, half-silhouetted in the late afternoon light. His skin looked golden, caught that way, shadows exaggerating the strength of his jaw, his cheekbones, his mouth. “And the fight choreography was amazing. All I’m saying is that if – _if_ – there was any suggestion of tears beyond a trick of the light, it was due to being caught off-guard.”

Teddy laughed, winding his scarf around his neck. “Because you have a problem admitting that you’re actually a big old romantic at heart?”

“Me?” Billy flashed him a brilliant grin, and the more he kept doing that, the harder Teddy found it to look anywhere but at his smile. “I was born bitter and cynical. You, on the other hand, were forged entirely out of sunshine and puppies.”

“Billy!” The voice called from across the lobby. _Nate? Had he followed them here?_

Teddy turned and Billy looked up, and the younger man who approached and flung an arm around Billy’s shoulder looked vaguely familiar and not at all Nate-like. Thank goodness for that. There were two of them, he realized after a second, the guy followed closely by a girl in layers of cotton skirts, a long braid of brown hair hanging over one shoulder.

_Two young men who looked so much alike. Billy, with his similar coloring and not much else. Tom on the outside of it all._

“This is my baby brother, Aaron,” Billy said, as Teddy nodded and extended a hand. “And his fiancée, Robyn. This is Ted.” A half-beat, a darted glance, and- “a friend from work.”

Any resemblance between Billy and Aaron was superficial at best; the dark hair, for one, and their eyes. Aaron was probably about Billy’s height, but gave the impression of being larger; of taking up more space in the world. Aaron took Teddy’s hand with an easy grip and a surface smile. 

“Nice to meet you.” Teddy shook Robyn’s hand as well and she smiled at him a little uncertainly.

"You work at NYCU?" she asked.

"I'm teaching early modern history; I started in September."

“Aha - I knew I remembered the name.” Aaron looked at Teddy more carefully, cataloguing him and filing him away. “You’re the reason Bill’s been surgically attached to his phone for the last few weeks.”

"No, that would be because nothing in the world is more boring than listening to Mom freak out about wedding plans." Bill replied easily.

"Don't look at me," Robyn poked Aaron in the ribs, and she smiled at Billy. "I wanted to elope. Sunny beaches, surf and sand, send a 'snooze, you lose' card out afterwards with the photos."

"You know they'd have hunted us down. We'd wake up one day to a horse head in the bed."

Robyn giggled. "Oh sure, the Jewish mafia strikes again."

"It's June, right?" Teddy asked, more for something to say than anything else. "Congratulations."

"And the mothers and grandmothers have been collectively melting down for a year already," Bill replied. "Speaking of which-"

"You're throwing off the plate count now," Robyn cut in. "Unless we just go ahead and give you a plus-one anyway-" and she looked at Teddy like she was dying to ask. Aaron stepped on her toe. 

“About that," Aaron started, frowning at Billy. "Have you talked to Nate lately?”

The guilty look that crossed Billy's face was a small dash of cold water, and Aaron's expression was unreadable. “Not since last week. Why?”

“I was just wondering how he was holding up.”

Billy shrugged, a study in careful nonchalance. “He's fine. He's staying at a friend's place. He said he'd let me know when he finds an apartment so we can figure something out with the furniture and start forwarding his mail."

Oh. That made sense; mail and money and end-of-relationship logistics didn't mean that they had been talking about anything else.

_Like how nice it might be not to have to deal with all those logistics._

The lobby had half-emptied while they'd talked and Robyn grabbed Aaron's arm with impatience. "We're not going to be able to get seats! Come on."

It only took a moment to make their goodbyes and nice-to-meet-yous, and then they were off. Teddy shrugged into his coat and caught Robyn glancing back at him, a few words audible as they wound their way through the crowd.

_“So... are they dating?”_

_“I’m not sure.”_

_“But I thought you said-“_

And then they were gone, around the corner and out of earshot.

“Sorry about that. Aaron’s social skills stopped evolving somewhere between stamp collecting and middle management.” Billy’s shoulders hunched, and he buttoned his wool coat up to meet his dark red scarf.

Teddy shrugged it off. As appealing as the idea was, it wasn’t like Nate was going to just vanish into the ether now that he was Billy's ex. "I hadn’t noticed. And it was nice to meet some of your family."

“You’re unreal,” Billy laughed, pushing the door open and leading Teddy outside. He paused, glancing at his watch in the waning afternoon light. The wind caught the edge of his scarf and whipped it around his face, red fringe dancing in the air. He pushed it back, in a gesture that looked like long habit. “I’m starved,” he said, looking unsure and making the statement sound like a question. “Did you want to-?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I could totally eat.” And with that any awkwardness was gone, Billy uncurling under Teddy's smile. "There used to be a great noodle place not too far from here, but I have no idea if it’s there anymore."

"We can find out? It's not too bad out, for January. I don't mind the walk if you don't."

It did still exist, even if it did take an hour to find it. Billy's cheeks stayed a little flushed as they sat in the restaurant, even though they'd been inside in the warmth for ages already. The conversation had somehow wound its way on to the subject of families again; not usually Teddy’s favorite topic.

Billy made it easy.

"They were ridiculously supportive, almost embarrassingly so," he was saying. Teddy reached his chopsticks across the table to steal some of the last few udon from Billy's bowl. "They didn't start their own PFLAG chapter or anything, but it was a close call." Billy pushed his bowl into the middle of the table in tacit permission. "Mind you, Bubbe Rose has spent the last six weeks trying to enroll me on J-Date."

Teddy paused, noodles in mid-air. "Tell me you're joking."

"She behaved herself while Nate was around, but now that he's out of the picture... She can cope with this ‘faygele funny business,’-" Billy put on an approximation of a Yiddish accent, pinched his fingers together and talked with his hands in the air. Teddy had to force himself to breathe so that he wouldn’t choke on the laugh. “But at least William should be bringing home a nice _Jewish_ boy, so he doesn't break his poor grandmother's heart.”

Billy rolled his eyes and dropped the act. “She means well, and she's amazingly open-minded for ninety-five. But I consider it divine intervention that she gets stuck halfway through the survey questions every time.”

There was that pang again, something stuck between longing and envy, that seemed to always crop up around Billy's stories about his family. Whatever they'd been through they were tight-knit now, in and out of each other's homes and lives like his had never been.

He'd never quite been able to let go of that fantasy.

“How about you? What was your mom’s reaction like?”

Teddy faltered.

_So much for 'sunshine and puppies.'_

It had been easy for Billy, from the sounds of things. He'd had Nate, his parents hadn't batted an eye; he'd always had that soft place to fall.

He wouldn't understand. More than that, he'd _know_.

But worse than Bill not-knowing was him continuing to think that Teddy was something brave, or wonderful.

He pushed a limp sprig of basil around the bottom of his bowl, watching the trails it left in the broth that clung to the porcelain.

"I never told her," he said, after the silence had gone on too long. He didn't look up.

"I meant to. I thought I had time. That it would be easier when I had a boyfriend. Or if she guessed. Anything to avoid having to do the whole 'mom, we have to talk' routine."

He chanced a quick glance. Billy didn't look surprised, or disapproving, or disappointed in him. He just looked like Billy, a little sad and a little concerned. "But it didn't come up," Billy prompted him quietly, resting his arms on the table between them.

"It never did. And then she got sick."

The words didn't stick in his throat anymore; fifteen years dulled the edges of so many things that should have stayed sharp.

"I was fourteen when she was diagnosed and for two years everything was about hospitals and appointments and tests; I told myself that it would be selfish to drop something huge like that on her. That I couldn't make things be about me when she needed to focus on getting better. Even when my uncle came down to help and things got a bit easier - I just thought, 'it's not the right time.'

"And then she died. And I never did tell her the truth about who I was."

"She knows," Billy murmured, his voice thick. He grabbed for Teddy's hand and squeezed, and Teddy didn’t fight it. "I'm sure of it. And she'd be so proud of who you've become."

Billy’s fingers laced through his, and Billy’s thumb stroked gentle circles over Teddy’s palm. The pressure and the warmth of his hand and the glide of skin on skin was soothing, almost hypnotic. Teddy closed his fingers to keep him there.

Billy’s thumb never stopped moving, pressing firm against the base of Teddy’s thumb, the sensitive skin of his palm. His touch was a living thing, a deep stroke into the tension in Teddy’s hand, then a light caress that barely skated across the edge of sensation.

The dark mood and self-recrimination ebbed further out of him with every gentle circle, a tide pulling away from the shore. And as it vanished something warmer took its place.

Darker than caramel, darker than maple; Billy’s eyes were a shade that Teddy couldn’t name. Those eyes were staring into his when he looked up to find them, and the heat and compassion there sent an answering coil thrumming low in Teddy’s gut. Billy’s lips were slightly parted, just like his, and his touch burned like fire on Teddy's skin.

His mouth was dry, his heart pounding in the base of his throat. The answering pulse would be flickering at Billy’s wrist.

He could do it right now; pull his hand in close, press his lips against the soft skin there, taste the strong line of the tendon with the tip of his tongue and watch to see how Billy’s face would change, his breathing quicken.

Billy moistened his lips, took a breath-

“Will that be the bill, gentlemen?”

Teddy let go, flustered. The pressure of Billy’s fingers ached between his own like a phantom limb. Billy laughed nervously and fumbled in his coat pocket for his wallet.

The moment was gone, lost in the arguments over who was paying, and sorting out coats, and exactly how juvenile it was to still add the words ‘in bed’ to the end of every cookie fortune. (Very, the verdict turned out to be, but ‘others admire your flexibility’ was probably both the best and worst fortune Billy could have gotten, considering.)

The walk from the restaurant back to Billy’s apartment was a winding one, more subdued in the evening darkness. Teddy’s breath puffed out, crystal-white under the streetlamps as they passed. Billy had his hands in his coat pockets again, which was probably for the best. Teddy wouldn’t have been able to resist grabbing one, otherwise, and locking their fingers together again.

This was better, it had to be. Walking side by side, chatting with that easy back and forth about movies and comics and nothing important at all. If he could force himself to be happy with this as it was, there was every chance that he could have it always. And wouldn’t friendship be infinitely more satisfying than some brief and blistering affair that would inevitably crash and burn?

Because Teddy didn’t get to keep good things.

His face was half-frozen by the time they got to Billy’s building, the spotlights out front managing to be both welcoming and cold at the same time. “Come inside and thaw,” Billy ordered, holding his gloved hands up against Teddy’s bright pink cheeks. “You’re going to end up with frostbite.”

“Yes, mom,” Teddy teased, but the heat was welcome. It seared through his chilled skin and sent his face tingling when the glass doors closed behind them. The elderly doorman looked them over and nodded at Billy, then turned back to his folded newspaper and his crossword puzzle. “Oh man; I can feel my face again. That’s better.”

Billy’s glasses fogged up instantly from the temperature change, and he shoved them to the top of his head. He stripped off his gloves and put his palms against Teddy’s cheeks one more time, the heat seeping into Teddy’s bones more deeply than Billy’s warm hands should have accounted for.

Teddy breathed out slowly and Billy looked up. His fingers curled, sinking into Teddy’s hair and scraping lightly against Teddy’s scalp. Teddy shivered and his hands came up despite themselves, rested lightly on Billy’s hips. The thick layers of wool and denim added bulk; Teddy knew what his hips looked like, what they _felt_ like against his own, divided only a couple of layers of cotton. His hands clenched at the thought, Billy warm and solid between them.

Billy worried at his lower lip, left it gently swollen from his teeth and glistening. “What would you do if I asked for a kiss goodnight?” he asked, tilting his head.

He could pull him in, wrap his arms around Billy’s waist, press flush against him and let their bodies lock. Teddy wanted to taste him, to open his coat and flatten his hands against Billy’s bare skin, run his hands up under the dark grey sweater that looked so unbearably soft.

“That would make this a date, wouldn’t it?” Jokes were easier; they didn’t have to mean anything.

Billy only raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it? Dinner and a movie feel pretty date-like. You even walked me home, wonder of modern chivalry that you are. I’m pretty sure this fits all the standard definitions.”

He had lost before he’d begun. “There you go, using earth logic again.”

It would still be possible to step back. To take his hands off of Billy’s hips, let go of the fabric bunching between his fingers. He could walk away now and it would be awkward, but not impossible.

Or he could lean in, lean in and breathe in the scent of Billy’s hair, that citrus-sweet aftershave, the faintest hint of popcorn.

Billy’s lips were soft, but he had known that they would be, and they parted for him as easily as the first time. Teddy closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against them again. He traced the curves there, the round swell of Billy’s bottom lip that trembled a little when he sucked on it, when he bit down with a feather-light touch.

His hands tightened compulsively on Billy’s hips, and he hung on desperately to a couple of belt loops. Billy traced the edges of Teddy’s lips with the tip of his tongue before pressing in, licking his way into Teddy’s mouth. Billy’s hands flattened against the sides of Teddy’s head, his fingers buried deep in Teddy’s hair. Billy’s tongue sank deep into him, careful and questing. He tugged gently at Teddy’s hair, and the sensation was fire radiating from Billy’s clever fingers.

A cough sounded from the desk – the doorman that Teddy had forgotten about completely – and Teddy broke the kiss, cheeks flaming and grin sheepish. Billy laughed breathlessly, and Teddy pulled him in. Not to kiss, this time, just to hold him close and protect this single, perfect moment.

Teddy nuzzled into Billy’s hair, pressed his forehead in against Billy’s temple and stayed there. _Stop over-thinking things for once. Just ... be happy._

Eventually – a minute later, five, it hardly mattered – Teddy straightened, and Billy took a deep breath that Teddy swore he could feel in his own lungs. “Get out of here,” Billy ordered. He grabbed for Teddy’s hand and gave it a last, tight squeeze. “I enjoyed the hell out of today.”

Teddy relaxed back into it, that thing they were together.

“So did I.” He leaned in, then, brushed one final chaste and tender kiss across Billy’s lips before turning up the collar of his coat against the cold. “Good night.”

Billy smiled. “Good night.” And he stood in the lobby, watching as Teddy left. And when Teddy turned one last time before trudging off, Billy was there at the glass. Teddy waved and he lifted his hand to wave back, silhouetted darkly against the light.

\--

Something was different.

That wasn’t entirely accurate. A _lot_ of things were different, especially after the weekend. But this one, specifically, had to do with the boxes.

Teddy stared at the pile for a moment, trying to figure it out. Still sixteen of them, still where he’d left them. Maybe Janet had moved them a bit when she’d cleaned?

Then he saw it.

The label Teddy had placed on his pile of boxes was gone. In its place was one which read:

 

**Fire Hazard**

**Please remove hallway obstruction as per municipal fire code,**

**Article 92.3C.1 Delays may result in financial penalties.**

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Cap' is borrowed with permission from isengard and her brilliant Young Avengers AU, [I'll Cover You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/589582/chapters/1060411). If you aren't reading it, you should be.


	8. January (Part 2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein fun is had, and the discussions that should have been had, are not.

**January, Part 2:**

 

"I've got to find something to do with them," Teddy sighed, leaning back a little precariously in his own chair.

Billy frowned, hands wrapped around his second coffee of the day. "But Facilities won't accept the return. What do you want to do?"

"I don't suppose any of the engineering kids need things to blow up?" Teddy joked, but the image was actually immensely satisfying. "Any plans to build a catapult in one of your seminars?"

The look on Billy’s face suggested that he was giving that actual consideration. “Not on the syllabus, unfortunately, but maybe as an honors project…” but then he shook his head, and a gleam came into his eye. “Hold that thought.”

“What?” Teddy watched as Billy unfolded himself from the chair, coffee in his hand. “You do know that I wasn’t serious about the ‘blowing things up’ part, right?”

“Don’t worry,” Billy replied, and he tapped a finger against the side of his coffee cup as he considered something. “You’re done by five?”

“I have an evening class this semester; I’m done by seven.”

“Even better. Meet me back here at nine, no- nine-thirty. The place should be empty enough by then.”

That didn’t sound good. Well, no – it sounded _interesting_ , but also like the sort of opening sentence to a story that would end with ‘and it seemed like such a good idea at the time.’ Teddy pinned Billy with a look. “Before I agree to anything, what exactly do you have in mind?”

Billy only smiled, and the hint of glee in that grin made Teddy a little nervous. “Trust me,” he said. “Nine-thirty tonight.” And he slipped out.  

That didn’t help at _all_.

\--

The building was pretty much empty by the time Teddy got back to the office, and Billy was waiting in the hallway with a wheeled dolly and a wide smile.

“So are you ever going to tell me what your master plan is,” Teddy asked, strolling up to meet him, “or are you going to keep me guessing the whole time?”

“What’s a relationship without a little mystery?” Billy joked, but he patted the handle of the dolly proudly when Teddy came close. “I have it all figured out. The Arts center is just next door. Scenography has an entire back room full of extra furniture they’ve scavenged. We can ditch them in there and no-one will ever notice.”

“They won’t notice an additional sixteen chairs showing up out of the blue?”

“It’s a big shop.” That wasn't an answer, not really.

Teddy tried to think through all the angles. It seemed way too easy. “The building should still be open, but won't all of the stage doors be locked? It's not like the lecture halls."

Billy dangled a key ring from one finger, and grinned in challenge.

Teddy stared. "How did you get the keys to scenography?”

“I didn't; I went one better. This is Darcy and Pepper’s Jesus key. It’ll open ninety percent of the doors in the arts complex. All we have to do is load up the dolly, wheel the boxes over, and find somewhere unobtrusive to hide them.”

Teddy was stuck on the whole key thing, and he blinked at Billy. “Wait. 'Jesus key'?”

“Yeah, no idea." Billy shrugged. "Either because it’s got ‘JC’ stamped on it, or because it works miracles. Are we doing this thing, or are you chickening out on me?”

“You’re going to eat those words, Kaplan.”

“Then get the boxes loaded and let’s go.”

The boxes were lighter than they looked, and it didn't take long to get them piled on the dolly. And that was a shame, because Billy had rolled his shirtsleeves up before he started and the weight was just enough to get the muscles taut in his forearms, sinuous lines of power under his skin. Teddy could easily watch him move for hours, obsessing over the shift and play of his shirt across his shoulders. Billy caught him staring, but just once, and all he did was flush slightly pink.

Totally worth it.

Getting the loaded dolly down the ramp wasn't bad, but pushing it up the hill between the buildings was awful. The morning's rain had combined with a cold snap to lay a thin sheet of ice over everything, and Teddy fought and dug his feet in to get purchase. By the time they managed to shove it up and over the lip of the loading bay behind the stage doors, they'd lost boxes off the top three times, Billy scrambling to right them while Teddy braced the dolly against gravity.

The key worked as advertised, thank god; the idea of having to haul the entire thing back down the hill was enough to give Teddy nightmares.

Billy knew his way around the building, pulling the cargo elevator open and directing Teddy to the prop shop and storage rooms without batting an eye. The storage room was a cluttered disaster, piles of furniture stacked haphazardly under hand-lettered signs that read things like ‘Colonial’ or ‘Baroque (don’t fix it)’, and ancient shelves bending under the weight of dented boxes.

“So how did you know about this?” Teddy asked, as Billy pushed a couple of hollow lions out of the way to make a path from the door.

Billy gestured for him to start pushing the boxes in, and grinned sheepishly. “I got drafted to help direct one of the plays my first year here. The director had a scheduling conflict and I knew the script. Don't run over Napoleon."

Teddy turned the dolly as sharply as he could to avoid the plaster bust of the emperor, and snickered. “Oh my god, you’re a theater nerd. I bet you were in drama club in high school.”

“Was not.” Billy looked affronted, grabbing onto the end of the dolly as it started to overbalance. “ _Liking_ theater doesn’t make you a ‘theater nerd.’ I was a classic video-games and comic books nerd.”

“What do you mean, ‘was’?”

A large wardrobe filled with gruesomely-painted fake body parts sat far out from the wall enough that they could lever the boxes behind it, stacked three-wide and five-high. Billy had to balance on a bright purple end table to get the last one in, and he wobbled enough on the dismount that Teddy had to lunge to keep him from hitting the floor. He caught Billy around the waist, breathless and laughing, only pushing him away once Billy wiped a streak of sawdust off his hand and down Teddy's shirt.

He had a matching smear of shop dust on his face and Teddy rubbed at it with his thumb, accidentally catching the corner of Billy’s mouth. Billy’s breath hitched a little and his pupils spun wide.

Voices echoed through the door and footsteps stopped outside. There was the sound of a key in the lock. Teddy froze, his hand cupping Billy’s jaw and the pad of his thumb pressing a gentle dent into Billy’s bottom lip.

“Come on,” Billy grabbed his hand and pulled him back through the storage room into the scene shop proper, stumbling through the half-dark of the work lights. There was another door at the far end and he dragged Teddy out through it, collapsing back against the hallway wall. He laughed, and Teddy sagged back beside him, grinning.

"We're going to get caught.” Teddy poked him. “We left the dolly in there. I never imagined I’d get fired for breaking-and-entering.”

"We're not going to get caught. And even if we did, it's not breaking and entering if you have a key.” This whole thing was absurd, but Billy was there beside him with mischief in his eyes and a triumphant grin. “Live a little, Altman.”

Billy’s eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled. There was sawdust on his shirt and on his winter coat, and his hair flopped, unruly, over his forehead. He shoved it back from his face, dark strands tangling in his fingers. 

Teddy needed him, this beautiful, laughing man.

Fuck _everything_.

Teddy rolled off the wall and planted his hands on either side of Billy in one swift, sure motion. He ducked his head and hesitated, looked into Billy’s eyes to be sure that he could – that he was still allowed. Billy stared back at him with wide-eyed desire, and Teddy forgot how to breathe.

He kissed Billy. He pressed his lips against Billy’s and crowded him against the wall. Billy wrapped his arms around Teddy’s shoulders and pulled him down. He opened his mouth to the kiss and flicked his tongue over Teddy’s lips. Teddy pushed one leg between Billy's; he needed to be closer, to tangle in him and ride against the hard muscle of his thigh. Billy's mouth was hot and wet, red lips and panting breath and desperation.

"Wait.” Billy grabbed a fistful of Teddy’s shirt and twisted it, pushed him back to put air space between them. “Teddy, stop. Don’t – you can’t start this again if you don’t mean it. You're not going to have another crisis of conscience on me, are you?”

He was and he wasn’t, and Teddy closed his eyes. "I’m not,” he answered. The terror shot through him again, fierce and undimmed. He opened his eyes and stared into Billy’s, his mouth gone dry. Even the layers of clothing he had on couldn’t stop him from feeling utterly exposed. “You're not going to call Nate next week and ask him to move back in, are you?"

A series of expressions flickered through those dark eyes – surprise, guilt, and understanding – and Billy shook his head. “No. I won’t. Even-“ he swallowed, his throat bobbing a little and Teddy wanted to put his mouth on it, just there; feel the movement under his lips. “Even if you do change your mind. I’m not going back.”

Teddy kissed him before he’d finished speaking, stealing the last word from his lips. "Not changing my mind," he said firmly, bending his head to taste Billy's throat, mouth along his jaw line. He could feel Billy’s heart beating there under his tongue, a throbbing heated pulse flickering as rapidly as his own.

Billy's thigh was solid between his and he rolled against it. The pressure was a desperate relief against his cock, now fully hard and aching. Billy’s hands dropped to Teddy’s waist, his hips stuttering in jerky half-formed movements. He pulled at Teddy’s shirt, slid his hands beneath. His fingertips were hot on Teddy’s skin, his own cock hard against Teddy’s hip. Billy arched against him and Teddy groaned, the friction a burning, living thing beneath his skin.

“Hang on,” Teddy broke away, braced his hands on the wall and tried to breathe. His pulse was roaring in his ears, fire licking up and down his skin and exposed nerves. “We can’t, here. My place-“

“Too far.” Billy’s voice was low and hoarse, his eyes all but black with desire. “Hold that thought,” he instructed, sliding his hands out from under Teddy’s shirt and pressing one finger against his lips.

Teddy sucked on the end of it, flattened the tip of his tongue against the pad and Billy shuddered. “Stop that,” he murmured. He dragged his finger away slowly, ran it down over Teddy’s lower lip.

“Damn it; where’s the key?” he ransacked his pockets while Teddy sagged against the wall and tried to slow his heart. Everything in his body was straining toward his groin, and the throbbing ache in his cock. Christ; all Billy was going to have to do was _breathe_ on him and he was going to go off, like some idiot teenager.

“Here-“ Billy unlocked the door beside them. It opened into a small room, a mirror on one wall, a couch, a set of shelves and an old piano. “The green room,” Billy explained breathlessly, and grabbed Teddy’s hand to pull him in. Lights on, door closed, Billy flipped the lock.

“Here?” Teddy hesitated, but only for a second.

“I’m sure a lot worse things have been done on that couch.”

Then Billy was on him, his mouth pinning Teddy’s in a glorious, urgent mess. Their teeth clashed and Teddy’s tongue was in Billy’s mouth, wet and dirty and hot.

Teddy pulled at Billy’s shirt, tugged it free from his slacks. He ran his hands up Billy’s stomach, splayed his fingers out over all that soft skin and hard muscle. Billy pushed him backwards and he stumbled, Billy’s hands working at his belt buckle as they went.

Three steps, Teddy mouthing at Billy’s jaw, his throat, the pulse below his ear; then he caught the edge of the couch behind his knees and fell backwards. Billy dropped to his knees without hesitation, slid between Teddy’s legs and ran his hands high up over Teddy’s thighs. Teddy bucked up into the caress, Billy’s thumbs skating close to the outline of his cock where it pushed against his pants.

“Can I?” Billy had Teddy’s belt open and his hand was on Teddy’s zipper. He looked up at Teddy, knelt there between his thighs. His hair was a disheveled mess and his lips wet and wanton-red, and _fuck_ ; Teddy could come just from that sight alone.

“Please,” Teddy gasped out, reached out to cup his hand along Billy’s jaw, his hips bucking up and chasing the pressure as Billy pulled the zipper down. “God, _Billy._ ”

It only took a second for Billy to push the zipper back, to slide his hand in and cup Teddy’s erection through the light blue cotton of his boxers. But then - Billy sat back on his heels and just stared for a moment, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Teddy squirmed under the weight of his gaze, was about to lean forward and beg for him to do something, get up here, kiss him-

Then Billy splayed his hands out on Teddy’s thighs and leaned forward, ran his mouth along the length of Teddy’s still-trapped cock. His lips caught for a second on the damp patch where Teddy was already leaking, the fabric drawn tight across his cockhead.

Teddy groaned and his hips bucked up into that fleeting sensation. Billy’s hands curled around his hips and held him in place. He brushed his lips slow as torture along the whole length of Teddy’s cock.

Teddy needed to strip away the last of their clothes and get inside him, to hold him steady and thrust deep into that slick heat.

And then it was gone again. 

“Fuck, Billy,” Teddy growled. “You’re _killing_ me.”

Billy chuckled, low and dark, and mouthed him again, the gentle pressure firing sparks behind Teddy’s eyes. Teddy bit his knuckle to stop himself from shouting and bringing campus security down on them both. “I’ve barely started.”

Billy closed his mouth over the head of Teddy’s cock, the wet cotton muting and spreading the sensation and the heat. His tongue traced patterns there, the wetness of his mouth sealing the fabric to the skin beneath. Billy sucked him in, pulled at Teddy’s boxers with his teeth and licked a long-slow-wet stripe up Teddy’s cock.

The sensation was gentler, spread out and not _enough_ , the cold air hitting his wet skin through the fabric every time Billy took his mouth away

_“Please.”_ Teddy begged, he begged and rocked against Billy’s hands. If he could just get closer to Billy’s mouth, sink between his lips, drown inside him-

Billy hooked two fingers in the elastic of Teddy’s boxers and pushed them down his hips; just enough to free his cock and let it rise up to lie flat against his stomach. Teddy looked down at himself, at Billy’s fingers wrapping around the familiar shape, his cock throbbing red and beading pre-come along the slit.

Billy leaned in and wiped it away with his tongue. He pressed his lips to the tip, then without any warning at all, opened his mouth and took Teddy deep.

_Holy mother of_ fuck!

The couch was rough under Teddy’s fingers when he dug in, white-knuckled. He had to salvage some control, stop himself from grabbing Billy’s head, pulling him down, thrusting in and in and _in._

Billy’s hands held him still. His lips and tongue moved in little circles, dancing around the rim, over the head, down along that sweet cluster of nerves below. He dropped a hand and stroked himself, rocking into his own fingers in time with the way he was working Teddy with his mouth. “Don’t,” Teddy begged, and Billy frowned up at him, pulled off and sat back. “I want to touch you.” The words were hard to find through the haze in his brain, but Billy sucked in his breath.

He put both hands on Teddy again, cupped the weight of Teddy’s balls and tugged on them. He sank his slick, sweet mouth back down on Teddy, pulling off and teasing, then mouthing and licking him down to the root. Teddy grabbed for him, cupped the back of Billy’s neck with his hand, the short hairs there prickling at his fingers.

Billy took him in deep, so deep, the flat of his tongue pushing up against the underside of Teddy’s cock. He swallowed around Teddy, the sensation everywhere and everything all at once. Teddy looked down; Billy was staring up at him, his lips gleaming wet with spit and pre-come, Teddy’s cock vanishing between them.

“I’m close. I’m going to come; _fuck_!” Teddy threw his head back and strained against Billy’s hands, the thumbs that dug into his skin and promised sweet bruises in the morning.

“Go,” Billy urged him, pulling off only for a second before sinking back down onto him. Teddy rocked up into him once, twice, fire tightening in the pit of his stomach, and then he was gone.

Lightning raced along his limbs, snaked along his arms and legs, sparked in his fingers and toes and the back of his neck. He came and Billy swallowed him down, wrapped his hands around Teddy’s hips and his thighs, stroked and petted and tucked up under his half-unbuttoned shirt.

Teddy collapsed, his head banging back against the wall as he fell. The couch caught him and he moaned. Billy was laughing, pressing kisses along Teddy’s stomach, his hip, the tip of his cock, oversensitive and sore. Teddy hissed and Billy tucked him away gently, gave his softened dick an affectionate pat. Teddy burst out laughing and Billy rose to his feet. His hard-on tented out his slacks, insistent and gorgeous and begging to be tasted.

Teddy sat up and chased him, grabbing for Billy’s hands. He pulled him down, kissed him and thrust his tongue inside that unbelievable, _perfect_ mouth. He tasted himself, and couldn’t resist sucking on Billy’s lower lip to get the last few traces. Billy moaned and Teddy bit at his throat. He mouthed at Billy’s collarbone, laved his tongue along the dip and hollow in the middle. He pushed Billy’s shirt out of the way impatiently, tasted and nipped at what skin he could find, leaving little pink welts behind.

Teddy grabbed at Billy’s pants and Billy thrust against him, rubbed shamelessly against whatever part of Teddy’s hands he could reach. His hands twisted in Teddy’s hair and guided Teddy’s mouth to where he wanted him, his cock straining against the fabric that confined it.

Teddy made the mistake of looking up. Billy was looking down at him, lips parted and eyes half-closed, his shirt askew. Teddy froze, the perspective all off. Something lanced him, thick and heavy in the center of his chest, and he couldn’t breathe.

“Teddy?” Billy cupped his cheek, and Teddy leaned into the touch.

“Bad angle,” he muttered. “C’mere.” He wrapped his arms around Billy and pulled him down to the couch. Billy settled with his back against the cushions, Teddy kneeling between his legs.

The air untangled in his chest. _Safe now._

He leaned over Billy and kissed him, slow and deep, Billy’s hips rolling up against him with undisguised urgency.

“Please, Teddy.” Billy begged. He hooked his arms back over the arm of the couch to give himself leverage, splayed himself open for whatever Teddy chose to give. Teddy fumbled with Billy’s waistband, all thumbs. He finally got the button and zipper open and shoved the layers of pants and briefs down Billy’s hips. Billy’s cock sprang free, thick and dark and gleaming wet at the tip.

_That. I want that._

He splayed his hands over Billy’s hips, pressed his nose and mouth against the crease of his thigh. Billy trembled underneath him, arching his head back and complaining louder the longer Teddy stayed there, just breathing. Teddy pressed a closed-mouth kiss to the base of Billy’s cock, just to feel him jump and hear him swear, then licked slowly up along the vein. Billy started talking and didn’t stop, an endless, barely-coherent litany of “oh god” and “holy shit” and “I want” spilling from him as Teddy tasted his skin.

He slid the flat of his tongue over the head, under the ridge and around. Billy made a soft keening sound that was magic and Teddy did it again, slow and slick.

It was too bad he didn't still have the tongue piercing. That had been an amazing feeling, dragging the warm metal ball along the length of a cock, the texture and the pull of steel on skin. But this was good too, his tongue sliding easily over Billy’s rigid length, the smell of sex and lust coiled around them. And over all of it was Billy, and the taste of his pre-come, salt-sour and so intensely male.

Teddy breathed hot over Billy’s balls, nuzzled the dark curls of hair at the base. Billy’s cock was heavy on his tongue, a solid weight that captured all of Teddy’s focus.

He sucked on the tip and Billy jumped underneath him, thrust up into his mouth fast and hard enough to make Teddy gag and pull back.

“Sorry, I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay.” And it was. But his reaction had been amazing and Teddy tried it again, pressing down with his hands to hold Billy in place. He took just the tip in his mouth, sucked hard, then pulled off again with a slick and audible pop.

Billy cursed and Teddy licked a long wet stripe up his palm, wrapped his fist around the base of Billy’s cock. Billy’s eyes widened and Teddy dropped his head to suck the rest, pumped his fist to stroke in time with the movements of his mouth. That was easy, that was good, and he flicked his tongue around the ridge again, just to watch the taut arch of Billy’s back as he writhed.

“Do it,” he ordered, sinking his mouth down over Billy again. Billy thrust once, tentatively. The soft skin of his shaft slicked up and down in Teddy’s hand, and he fucked Teddy’s mouth with just the head. Teddy’s lips closed around him and Billy shouted as he pulled back and popped free. Billy thrust up again with more confidence, a fast, sharp rhythm that filled Teddy’s mouth just enough each time. The tang of Billy’s pre-come flooded his senses, the obscene sounds of his mouth mingling with the sound of Billy’s voice.

Teddy was half-hard again, untouched. He wanted Billy’s hands next, Billy’s cock splitting him open, to ride hot between his thighs and come across his stomach.

"Teddy, I - shit, I'm going to - Teddy!" Billy cried out, thrusting faster into Teddy’s hand and mouth. Teddy closed his hand tight and sucked, his cheeks hollowing out and his eyes closed. Billy arched, dug in his nails, and then Teddy was swallowing again and again, his mouth flooded and Billy inside him, all _his_.

Billy’s cock softened in his mouth and Teddy let him fall away with one last slick pop. He ran his tongue along the sweaty arc and curve of Billy’s hip, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the trail of hair that ran down from Billy’s navel.

Billy collapsed back against the couch, all but purring in his languor. He wrapped his legs up around Teddy’s hips to pull him down, and Teddy curled around him possessively. Billy didn’t stop shaking, and Teddy stroked his cheek with a thumb. Billy turned his face in to Teddy’s chest, pressed against him. Teddy ran his hands over Billy’s back, a couple of choking sobs wrenching themselves free before Billy’s breathing evened out.

“Hey, hey-“ Teddy murmured quietly. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no-“ Billy breathed deeply, curled up tightly against Teddy and hooked his leg over Teddy’s knee. “I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m amazing. You’re amazing. That was-“

“Let me guess,” Teddy laughed softly when Billy seemed to have run out of steam. He kissed the top of Billy’s head. “Amazing.”

“You’re psychic,” Billy replied, his voice as drowsy as Teddy felt. He could easily stay here, wrapped up in Billy and the afterglow, tasting Billy in his mouth and holding him in his arms.

The old couch was poking a spring into Teddy’s side, and he shifted to dislodge it. Billy turned in his arms and tipped his head up to kiss him, arm locking tight around Teddy's waist. It was less urgent now but had no less heat, the fire and desperation from before turned smoldering, their kisses long and deep and slow.

Teddy’s dick was definitely getting interested again, and given another ten or fifteen minutes, he might be able to do something about it.

The loud rap on the door sent them both flying off the couch in different directions. “Building’s closing!”

“Thank you!” Billy called back to what had to be security, picking himself up off the floor where he’d landed. Teddy zipped himself back up, tucked his shirt back in haphazardly, and didn’t that just figure? The footsteps he hadn’t heard approach headed away down the hall and Billy broke into slightly nervous laughter.

Billy was a beautiful mess, and Teddy couldn’t resist the urge to run his fingers through his hair. There was no hope of calming it down, the tendrils flopping madly in all directions. Billy finished buttoning his shirt and he turned into Teddy’s touch, pressed a kiss into the center of his palm. He wasn’t as calm as he wanted Teddy to think, his darting looks tight and  nervous. Maybe as nervous as Teddy felt, now that the initial rush was over, and they were – what? Dating? Friends and fucking? Or was it just the once, the rebound that Teddy had been so desperate to avoid?

Screw it. If Billy wanted out now, he was going to have to be the one to say it. Teddy bumped his nose against Billy’s, tipped his head and kissed him, slow and sweet. And maybe, just maybe, he was going to get this one good thing to keep, because Billy was rising up on his toes to close the gap between them. He wrapped his arms around Teddy and kissed him back.

“Security’s going to be back any minute now,” Billy said mournfully. “And as appealing as the idea of getting locked in here with you is, it’ll make things complicated tomorrow.”

And then they’d both have had time to rethink this, and for neurosis and regret to get in the way, and-  “Come back to my place,” Teddy suggested impulsively. “Stay tonight? You can borrow one of my shirts for tomorrow. That’s if you don’t mind.”

“Ten minutes ago,” Billy said, leaning in to kiss Teddy again. “You had my dick in your mouth.”

“Yeah,” Teddy replied reverently. “That was awesome.”

“I’m good with borrowing a shirt.”

\--

Billy was in his arms the moment Teddy let his apartment door close behind them. Teddy kissed him up against the wall of his front hallway, pulled him down the dark hall to the bedroom, shedding a trail of clothes along the way.

Teddy flicked the light on, kissed Billy again, let him undo the buttons on Teddy’s shirt and push it off his shoulders. Billy’s glasses ended up on the night table, their pants on the floor.

It wasn’t fair, what this guy was doing to him. It was less than an hour since they’d been together and Teddy wanted him again, in every possible way. He hooked a finger into Billy’s shirt collar and dragged it aside. Billy’s collarbone was right there and Teddy licked it, dragged his tongue along the sweat-salty skin. He bit lightly and wanted it to mark, to be a red and purple reminder of what they’d done.

The bed was far more comfortable than the couch had been. Teddy pulled Billy down with him, tangled their legs, and traced the lines of Billy’s body with his fingers, lips and tongue. The desperate, crashing urgency of before mellowed into languorous touching and bare skin, heat and sweat and slick-sliding hands.

And this time, when he mouthed Billy's stomach and flattened his tongue over the hollow of his navel, it was as a prayer, and a benediction.

_Please, let me have this. Please let me stay._

Sometime later, as Billy was riding high over him and thrusting into Teddy’s hand, he stopped to catch his breath. He hung his head, panting, dark hair brushing against Teddy’s chest. “God, Teddy.” He rolled his hips and slid his cock through Teddy’s lube-slick fist. “You make me feel like I'm sixteen again. Like anything is possible.”

Teddy tightened his grip to make Billy gasp; smiled against his mouth and bit the sound from his lips. He kissed Billy, held him tightly as he shook through his orgasm, his own body sated and warm. "It is,” Teddy replied, curling around Billy and holding him close. “With you, I think it is."

\--

Teddy woke up before his alarm. He rolled over and caught himself halfway, the warm body next to him incongruous and utterly new. It hadn’t been a dream.

Bill Kaplan was in his bed.

The world was a beautiful place.

Billy was in his bed, sprawled out face-down and naked. The little bits of early morning sun that filtered between the bedroom curtains played across the expanse of his back, more defined and tautly muscled than the clothes he wore to work ever gave him credit for.

Teddy had to touch, he couldn’t help it. There was still a chance, however unlikely it was beginning to seem, that this was a dream or mirage. Or more probably, that Billy would come to his senses, that he’d decide this wasn’t what he wanted ( _that Teddy hadn’t been good enough_ ). And this would be the last opportunity he’d have to see, to touch, to _taste_. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Billy’s shoulder blade. There was a hint of salt there on his skin, and beneath that, musk and something else utterly indescribable.

Billy turned his head and muttered into the pillow, shoved his hands up beneath it and kept his eyes resolutely closed. Teddy smiled against his skin. He brushed the flat of his palm against Billy’s shoulder, followed the lines of his ribs and the arc of his back, the long plane of his side that curved up towards his ass.

He felt the shift in the air before Billy moved or opened his eyes. He was awake, the tension in his body different than it had been a few seconds ago. Teddy stopped moving and left his hand resting on Billy’s hip. Any second now, he was going to pull away or grumble a complaint.

Billy nudged his hips up toward Teddy’s hand, his eyes still firmly closed. It was an invitation, and Teddy’s mouth went dry. He pushed the covers down to expose Billy’s ass and legs, his thighs falling open just a little where he lay.

He was beautiful no matter what, but this, all laid out in front of Teddy, was almost too much. He had woken up half-hard, and the rush of blood and heat now left him aching. He cupped one cheek in his hand, splayed his fingers out to cover as much of that taut skin as he could. He slipped teasing fingers down the cleft between Billy’s legs. He could feel but not see the incredibly soft skin of his perineum from this angle, the downy hair that covered his balls. He stroked him there, with just two fingers, traced light circles on his skin.

Billy moaned into the pillow, and the sound was lightning right to Teddy’s dick. Billy kept his eyes closed and ground down against the mattress, everything tightening under Teddy’s fingers. “Wait,” Teddy leaned close and murmured into Billy’s ear, flattened his other hand firmly against Billy’s hip. Bill’s dark eyes flew open and stared at him hungrily. Teddy kissed him, and it felt like drowning.

_He didn’t deserve this but he would take it;  he would take it and run and never, ever look back._

He sat up so that he could run both hands down Billy’s legs, tight and muscular, patterned with dark hair that made his skin seem pale by contrast. There was so much Teddy still didn’t know about him. Did he work out, did he run? Teddy dragged the pad of his thumb over Bill’s instep, rubbed deep into the muscle there.

“Biking,” Billy muttered, and Teddy realized that at least some of that had been out loud. “I bike a lot in the summer.”

“It shows,” Teddy stroked him with both hands now, mapping out the textures of his calves, the backs of his knees, the freckle high on his inner thigh. “You have incredible legs.” Billy was tense, had propped himself up on his elbows and was looking back over his shoulder to watch Teddy.

His eyes were so dark in the half-light that the golden brown had gone almost entirely black. Billy grimaced, trembled with the effort of not-grinding, not- _moving_ while Teddy petted him. Teddy stroked his thumbs up the crease at the top of Billy’s thighs, along his hips. He slid his hand between Billy’s hips and the sheet, and wrapped his fingers around the base of Billy’s cock.

Billy arched, bucked up against him, a hissed “Fuck, _Teddy_ ,” ripping out of him.

Teddy just grinned and bit him lightly on the ass. Billy growled, and in a moment he’d turned, still inside the brace of Teddy’s arms, to lie on his back. Those magnificent legs wrapped around Teddy’s hips and locked behind him, Bill’s arms dragging him in close.

That was almost too much already, Billy hot and strong against and around him, morning stubble sharp against his cheek, their cocks rubbing against each other. Teddy braced himself with one arm over Billy’s shoulder, pressed up a little and laid his forehead against Bill’s. It was another point of contact, another place where the electricity between them could spark and jump. It also gave him one hell of a view, the red heads of their dicks sliding rough between their bodies.

The lube was still on the nightstand from last night and he grabbed for it blindly, thrust against Billy as he fumbled. He found the tube and a moment later wrapped a slick fist around Billy’s cock, already beading with pre-come.

He wanted to lick it off. He wanted to suck it and watch Billy’s face when he arched and thrust, to taste the salt-sour flood on his tongue again. He wanted to ride it, to sink down onto Billy and be filled and stretched until the burn was so strong he couldn’t think. He wanted to drive into him and watch Billy’s cock jump, to die a thousand times buried deep inside of him. To stroke Bill until he came, shouted, cried.

Not this time, though. This time he closed his hand around Billy’s dick. He stroked him slow, rocked his own hard cock against the groove of Billy’s hip and gasped at the drag and pressure.

Billy’s hips lifted into him and his nails dug into Teddy’s back. Sharp spots of pain merged with the white-hot pleasure of the friction in a feedback loop that sent sparks flying behind his eyes. Billy fastened his mouth on Teddy’s shoulder, nipped and sucked desperately at his skin.

Billy convulsed, crying out and mashing his lips against Teddy’s. The kiss was artless and needy, all teeth and tongue and stale morning breath. Billy’s come was a hot mess between them, and Teddy still _needed_ , so desperately. He sucked on Billy’s lips, lanced his tongue into his mouth and imagined it was his cock, fucking Billy’s mouth, fucking into his body.

He thrust against Billy’s hip, dragging through the slick-sticky mess, and it wasn’t quite – wouldn’t be quite _enough_. He wanted to crawl under Billy’s skin and live there, be a part of him and have _this_ , this _always_ -

Teddy grabbed his cock, jacked himself tight and fast. Billy’s hands moved restlessly down his body to clench at his ass, slip a spit-slick finger between and rub circles against the skin there. He pressed the pad of one finger against the tight ring of muscle, and Teddy’s body opened for him.

Teddy came almost instantly. He came over his fist and over Billy’s belly and it mingled with the mess already there. He dropped his head down into the crook of Billy’s shoulder and panted, stroked himself slowly through it. He grazed his teeth against Billy’s skin and bit down, lightly, a ground and an anchor, a point of contact to lead him back home.

He came back to himself a minute later with Billy’s arms wrapped around him, their legs tangled and the sheets bunched up around their feet.

“Fuck,” he breathed out reverently.

“I’m exhausted. Maybe next time?” Billy murmured against his throat, and Teddy could feel those warm lips curving up into a smile where they pressed into his skin.

_Next time._ Those were the two most magnificent words ever spoken, and Teddy laughed for the sheer joy of it. He looped his leg over Billy’s hip and used his leverage there to pull him in closer.

“Deal,” Teddy replied, and bent his head down to kiss Billy, long and tender (and still a lot like morning breath, but he really didn’t care). The alarm went off halfway through, and he wasn’t nearly done. He groaned and reached for it, smacking the nightstand a couple of times before he managed to turn off the shrill beep. Billy untangled himself and sat up, smoothed Teddy’s hair down with his fingers.

“Do you suppose we’d still make it in on time if we tried for a joint shower?” Billy suggested, a little bit of wariness creeping back into his eyes as the mood of the moment passed away into more mundane things.

“It would save water,” Teddy suggested, keeping his eyes locked on Bill. He wanted to get that smile back – not the slightly calculated one that Billy used half the time, but the real honest one that lit him up and set Teddy’s heart on fire. “It would be the responsible thing to do.” He nodded solemnly.

The smile came back and Teddy relaxed. “Well,” Billy said, sitting up. He glanced at the tangled mess of the sheets and grimaced a little. “Never let it be said that we didn’t at least try to be responsible.”

They made it to campus about five minutes before Teddy’s class started, but that was what TAs with cell phones and a key to his office were for.

And if anyone noticed the little trail of purpling bruises down Teddy’s neck, or that Billy was wearing one of Teddy’s shirts, they were polite enough not to say anything.

At least not to Teddy. 

 


	9. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein relationships are complicated, and everyone’s got baggage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opening scene might read like dubcon at one point, but it’s an established relationship with prior consent. This is enthusiastic consent, even if the words aren’t explicitly spoken.
> 
> There is an emotional discussion of a past (canon) parental death, not graphic. There is a scene where references to cheating are made, and the language may be heavy for those who are sensitive around issues of infidelity. (No, neither Teddy nor Billy cheat.)
> 
> Beta-read for IC-ness and grammar by feebleapb and xandertheundead. All mistakes are mine, and despite their best efforts.

**February**

**_Holiday: Presidents' Day (No Classes) - Monday, February 18_ **

**_Grad/Fac Seminar (Speaker: Dr. B. Bolt) – Friday, February 23_ **

****

****

“Good morning.” Teddy murmured the words against the shell of Billy’s ear, close enough to feel his own warm breath turn back on him, and the delicate softness of the skin along the side of his neck.

The lump under the covers grumbled, wayward ends of dark hair tickling Teddy’s nose as Billy shifted. “Go away. S’not morning yet.”

The temptation was too much. Teddy rolled up on his hands and knees, and straddled the Billy-lump. Billy’s bed was large, his bedroom a cozy nest of warm colors and dark wood. He couldn’t help but be grateful, though, that Billy had been forced to shell out for new bedding when Nate had moved out. Billy and Teddy were the only ones who had used these.

Billy curled up tighter under the bedcovers, and Teddy dragged the sheet down from the side of his face with one finger. He grazed Billy’s earlobe with his lips, then drew it in between his teeth and bit down lightly.

Billy gasped in a wonderfully gratifying way. One brown eye opened to glare at him balefully. “You’re playing dirty, Altman.”

“So make me stop.” Teddy purred, spreading his hands a little farther apart to stabilize himself. Billy growled at him and closed his eyes again, but his shoulders were shaking under there and the corner of his lip was twitching desperately.

Teddy stuck the tip of his tongue in Billy’s ear.

 _That_ was definitely a pleased groan, a long low rumble that cut off sharply when Teddy stopped. He sucked at the nape of Billy’s neck, mouthed the curve of his ear.

“Sleep deprivation is considered torture under the Geneva Convention,” Billy muttered underneath him. The way he arched his neck to give Teddy better access, though, suggested that he wasn’t exactly objecting. “I know where you sleep,” he carried on, eyes still closed. But his words were punctuated with soft gasps for air; Teddy could feel them where his lips and teeth scraped Billy’s throat. His stubble was sharp-edged, gorgeously rough against Teddy’s skin. He wanted to rub up against it, feel it scrape against his stomach and the inside of his thighs. It didn’t usually take much to convince him-

“I can take vengeance,” Billy muttered, flopping over onto his back and stretching underneath him. “Watch out.”

Teddy chuckled, and pressed a closed-mouth kiss to Billy’s lips, tender and adoring. “Big talk, from the man currently pinned to the mattress.”

“I’ll show you big,” Billy opened his eyes and curled his hand around the back of Teddy’s neck. He pulled him down for another kiss, this one wet and hungry.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Teddy felt obliged to point out, breaking away to haul the covers back.

Billy pushed him over with one hand on his hip and curled in behind him. He was hard, pressing up against Teddy, and Teddy rocked back into him. His hand stroked down Teddy’s thigh, over his hip, flattened out against his stomach before wandering down to wrap around Teddy’s cock, now aching far beyond the pleasant promise of morning wood.

And it was easy, there in Billy’s arms, slick and smooth. The strident alarm went off, and he barely noticed. Billy swatted it until the noise stopped and they were left with only the sounds of their gasps and groans, the wet slick slide of lube and spit and skin.

Why had he imagined this would be anything _but_ easy? He belonged _here_ , with Billy’s teeth scraping across his shoulder, his hand wrapped around Teddy’s dick, hips rocking sleepily into the space between Teddy’s thighs. Billy's hard cock pressed up against Teddy’s balls with every thrust, the slow drag back and forth exquisite torture. His voice was a constant low refrain in Teddy’s ear, the endless loop of “please” and “so good” and “so beautiful” incoherent and desperately needy. Every stroke pushed him just that little bit further, Billy’s hand working him in the same lazy tempo.

_Not enough; please!_

Teddy thrust into Billy’s fist, back against his cock, caught between them and the endless tease. He was on the edge, fire under his skin _._ If Billy would just hurry _up_ , stroke him faster, or move his hand and let Teddy take what he needed... Two or three strokes would be enough to push him off that precipice where Billy was holding him, had been holding him for what felt like hours.

Billy closed his mouth on the rings in Teddy’s ear and _sucked,_ the steel hoops clicking together and against his teeth. His stubble burned against the skin on Teddy’s neck, already raw from being kissed. He closed his hand tight around Teddy and stroked him fast. He slammed his own hips forward, cock scraping rough against Teddy’s balls and perineum, the base of his dick. Teddy pressed his thighs together and Billy came between them, hot and slick, wrapped his hand tighter around Teddy and squeezed as he stroked up, twisted over the head.

Teddy was in freefall. He came, his body shaking and his mind expanding, and he was _invincible_.

“You're still a jerk.” Billy muttered into his shoulder, and Teddy felt the smile pressed against his skin. He laughed, pulled Billy’s arms close around him, and ignored the mess. They could stay there, cocooned against the outside world, where nothing else mattered but their heartbeats and the sweat cooling on their skin. At least for a couple of minutes.

\--

“Late, we are going to be so late, there’s not going to be any explaining this one.” Billy hopped across his bedroom, one foot in his pants and the other halfway there, and grabbed for his glasses.

Teddy finished buttoning up his shirt and threw his dirty clothes into his overnight bag. “And whose fault is that?” he grinned. The rosy haze of pleasure was still rounding the edges off the world; he felt too damned good to panic. “I tried to wake you up early.”

“Using devious and underhanded morning-person methods!” Billy argued back, managing to get his pants buttoned and glasses on, despite the nervous energy that practically crackled through the air.

“Here I was, being all responsible,” Teddy continued as though Billy hadn’t interrupted, the picture of innocence. “And what did I get in return? Threats of bodily harm.” He patted down his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone... his watch was on the dresser.

“Threats of bodily harm and amazing morning sex,” Billy said, pulling on a blazer.

Teddy stepped in behind him, and slipped his arms around Billy’s waist. His hair was wet from the shower, and there was a thin smear of shaving cream missed along the curve of his jaw. Teddy wiped it away with his thumb. “Yet, I forgive you.”

“Because of the amazing morning sex.”

“Because I’m an awesome boyfriend,” Teddy corrected, stealing a second to kiss Billy behind the ear before reaching past him to grab his watch. Billy went still in his arms. Shit. _Shit._ Teddy took a half-step back, fastening his watch around his wrist to have something to do with his hands. “What?”

There was hope in Billy’s eyes when he turned to face him, but he hid it quickly. “‘Boyfriend.’ Is that a word we’re using now? Not that I don’t like it,” he added quickly. “I do. I like it a lot. But after your big speech back in December…”

“Sort of a moot point now, considering.” Part of him wanted to keep that last barrier, just keep this as… whatever it was. A thing, nebulous and ill-defined, with no expectations. It was safer that way.

But on the other side of it was Billy, warm and real and in his arms four nights of the last seven. What was safety compared to that? The expression of relief laced with heat he got back from Billy proved he’d made the right choice. “Should I give you my letter jacket, make it official?” Teddy teased instead of answering plainly. “Or my class ring? Wanna go steady?”

“If you think I’m wearing any kind of swag from _Dartmouth_ , you are sadly mistaken.” Billy’s reply was arch but his smile was blinding. He snagged Teddy around the neck to kiss him, fiercely and with tongue, before he headed out the door and down the hall.

This...this was good. Teddy gave chase, turning off the lights behind him as he went. His shoes were in the living room, book bag beside the couch. “That’s fine. I think it would ignite on contact with a Princeton grad anyway.” Billy snorted and passed him his coat; he slung it on as he spoke. “I might be able to dig up some of my old Davis stuff, but if you’re holding out for high school, you’re out of luck. I lost most of that at least three moves ago.”

Billy locked the apartment door behind them. “Forget jackets or frat pins; buy me a coffee before the faculty meeting, and I’m yours for life.”

\--

Taking a taxi rather than the bus got them there almost on time. The barricades and fire trucks blocking off the main road leading into the center of campus took a little extra time to navigate. 

“What the hell?” Billy muttered, coffee cup forgotten in his hand as he scanned the crowds of people milling around outside the Arts building.

The firefighters were packing up, coiling a hose back on to the truck and dragging long trails of it through the mud. It wasn't the Arts building that was the focus like Teddy had first thought but the annex next door, materials from the renovation-in-progress still piled high in the alley between them.

Coulson was pacing up and down the barricade line and speaking coolly into a cell phone, the wind flapping his tie around and spoiling the impeccable line of his suit. "I don't care who you have to get down here, you will have every single one of them on site within the next fifteen minutes, or I will have not only your contractors on location, but your direct superiors, their superiors and so on up the ladder through every parent and shell company you belong to, until I have your balls served to me on fine china. No, I'm being quite literal. Yes, I suggest you get that done."

"Over here!" Eli called, beckoning from down the line. Kate was with him, and she smiled at Teddy and Billy as they joined them.

"What happened?" Teddy asked, gesturing vaguely at the mess.

Kate looked him up and down, slowly, then did the same to Billy. It had to be obvious, them arriving both late and together, wet hair and out of breath. Not that it was a _secret_... but.

Would she be mad? She'd all but warned him off in the fall.

Kate just smirked. "About time," she said smugly, and tipped an open bag of trail mix toward Billy. Teddy grabbed the edge of the bag and stole a handful instead.

"They're not that late," Eli replied with a furrowed brow, oblivious. "Supposedly, a spark from one of the roofer's torches caught something, and smoldered overnight," Eli gestured with his chin at the annex roof as he answered Teddy’s question. "Then this morning, poof. Fireball."

"Which set off all the sprinklers," Kate added. "Did you know that four of the buildings on the quad are apparently running on a linked plumbing system?"

Oh shit. His books, student papers, the research he’d been accumulating for his next paper- Teddy groaned. Billy's eyes went wide, obviously thinking along the same lines. "That cleanup is going to _suck_. Tell me our offices weren't hit?"

Eli shook his head. "Not as far as I know." Teddy sagged a little with relief. "But there're a half-dozen servers in the annex basement, and all the buildings are closed until they can get them dried out. I assume the meeting's postponed."

"Where's Carol?"

"She’s yelling at Nick Fury. Did you know she can swear in at least six languages?"

"Woah, with the morning chaos." Darcy’s voice sounded behind them and Teddy turned in time to see her stride up, her striped wool hat pulled down low over her curls. She frowned. "I thought you guys had a thing.”

“We did,” Kate replied. “Roof's on fire.”

Another spark leapt skyward and there was shouting and running from the assembled emergency crews.

Darcy looked up. “Hunh. So it is.”

“And we’re done here, people,” Carol strode along the line of gawking bystanders, waving down her department. “We’ll reschedule the meeting. 8:30 classes in the Arts building are cancelled, we’ll send out new locations for the 10-ams. Check your email early, check it often. Now go away.”

“Looks like I could have slept in after all,” Billy stretched, his back cracking and a pop coming from one of his shoulders. He’d stretched like that when he’d rolled out of bed that morning, naked and sticky. Teddy could still feel the stubble burn on the nape of  his neck when he turned his head, and was caught up for a moment in wishing they were still there, coiled warm and pliant around each other. Billy met his eyes and his look was all heat, his smile a sensual promise of things already done and more to come.

“Oh my god,” Darcy yelped, and Teddy whipped his head around. She pointed at him, then at Billy. “You’re fucking!”

“Darcy!” Teddy and Billy yelped in chorus.

Eli choked, and Kate smacked him hard across his back a couple of times.

“What?” Darcy replied, all gleeful innocence. “It’s a good thing, isn’t it? Even if I do owe Pepper twenty bucks now. I said you’d hold out until after Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh my god.” Teddy buried his head in his hand. “That’s why you wanted to know about my ‘date.’”

“You’re not allowed to sass,” Kate clapped her hand over Billy’s mouth. “We need her to process petty cash.”

Eli rubbed his hand over his shaved head. “Why am I the last to know anything?”

Darcy sidled up to Teddy and grinned up at him. “You can’t be mad. We’re happy for you, that’s all.”

“Thanks, Darce,” he conceded. And she was right; it wasn’t something that was worth working up a head of steam over. Even if it did mean that their private little bubble this past week hadn’t been nearly as private as he’d imagined. Still, Darcy was a friend. Surely she was allowed. 

He tugged one of her curls and smiled.

The back of his neck prickled with the feeling of eyes on him, and Teddy turned. Students and staff milled around rubber-necking the fire, but no-one was paying any attention to him at all.

He was imagining things; Billy would probably attribute it to lack of sleep.

_Worth it._

“You know,” Darcy looked up at him with a sly grin that utterly demolished any warm and fuzzy friendship feelings he might have been redeveloping. “We’re dating twins. We should totally compare notes.”

“Darcy, _no_!”

She broke into laughter and he rolled his eyes.  

“Okay, troops,” Eli waved them over, Kate looping her arm through Billy’s. “The student union’s open. Coffee?”

“Yeah.” The second fire was out again, and if they stayed any longer, they’d be in danger of getting pressed into service for the cleanup. Darcy grabbed Teddy by the arm in imitation of Kate and dragged him along the path, their breath turning silver in the chill winter air. “Coffee sounds good.”

\--

The knock on Teddy’s office door jarred his concentration. The door was blurry when he glanced over, coming back into focus as he blinked away the strain from the computer screen. His muscles were tight from sitting hunched over for too long, and he cracked his back with a groan. “Come in!”

Tom stepped in, and Teddy's smile faltered for a second. He liked him well enough, as much as he liked anyone that he didn’t really know all that well. Tom kept everyone at arm’s length, wielded sarcasm and blunt words as weapons to push them away. Everyone except Billy. (And Darcy, apparently, though Teddy was reserving judgment there.)

Still, he definitely didn’t know Tom well enough for the guy to show up and invite him to hang out. “Hi,” Teddy greeted him, searching his face for some sign of what this was about. “If you’re looking for Billy, you just missed him. He already left for his class.”

“I know. I’m meeting Darcy for lunch.” Tom leaned against the doorjamb. He studied Teddy for a second, his face impassive and unreadable. He came to some sort of decision. “Got a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” Teddy gestured vaguely at the guest chair across the desk from him, but Tom was already most of the way there. “What’s up?”

Tom raised a pale blond eyebrow. “What? A guy can’t come and say hi to his brother’s new boyfriend without having an agenda?”

Ah.

“First off,” Tom continued. “He tells me things. If that’s going to be a problem, get over it.”

Oh man; that was one thing he hadn’t actually considered. The twins were close… but how close, exactly? “He doesn’t tell you _everything_.” It was more of a question than a statement. Teddy winced. “There are some things I’d really prefer stay private.”

Tom recoiled and waved him off. “God, no. My little brother’s sexcapades are the top of a long list of ‘shit I never want to hear about,’ believe me.”

Teddy breathed out with a rush of relief, but then had to laugh. “Sexcapades? Did you really just say that?”

“Shut up.” Tom made a face, then settled in more comfortably and spread his arms across the back of the chair. “My point is, I was in Billy’s life before we were actually born. I’ll be here long after you’re gone. So if you guys are doing this thing, you need to get used to it.”

He was actually serious. How was Teddy supposed to reply to that?

Tom’s expressions and body language were a study in contradictions. His face was still, his jaw jutting forward a touch in what looked like it wanted to be a pout or an angry clench, but his body was all but vibrating with nervous energy. A lot like Billy did sometimes, but _sharper_. More _edge_ than the slightly frantic anxiety that Billy was prone to when he was worked up.

_The silver-topped bonobo faces down a challenger from among the pride, flaring his nostrils as a sign of dominance over the other males..._

Teddy managed not to make himself snicker. Instead, he ran through all of the interactions they’d had; the lunches at the faculty club, conversations in the hall… no. Whatever had crawled up Tom’s butt and died, he’d bet last month’s pay that it had nothing to do with Teddy.

“I’m not going anywhere.” That was the first thing he had to say. “And I get that you’re important to him. You’re his brother; how could you not be?” Teddy paused and stared back at Tom, imagined for a moment that he saw his own affection for Billy reflected back in his brother’s eyes. “Is this my official ‘hurt him and I’ll kill you’ welcome-to-the-family speech?” 

Tom snorted, the closest he’d gotten to a laugh so far. His face was still closed down, though; contemplative. “Something like that.” A beat, then. “His ex was a real jackass.”

“I’ve met Nate.” Teddy tried to keep his voice neutral and didn’t quite make it. “I think I get it.”

“Yeah, no. You don’t. His jealous-and-possessive act got real old, real quick; but it took Billy twelve years to see through it. And now he’s jumped right in with you.” Tom drummed his fingers rapidly on the arm of his chair. This was closer to what he’d come in to say, obviously, and he was getting twitchier by the second.  

Teddy forced himself to relax, not to fidget. “I know,” he apologized. “It’s not ideal timing.”

“I don’t give a shit about ideal,” Tom replied, his tone clipped and tight. “I care about him not imploding and taking other people with him. He needs to figure out his own shit, not go looking for a white knight to make it all better.”

That didn’t make any sense. Billy was strong, self-aware even if he wasn’t always self-assured. So he had a few bad days. Considering the emotional turmoil he’d been going through over the past year, who could blame him? Teddy said as much. “I like him. A lot. I want him to be happy.”

Tom gave him a look, like Ted was stupid or purposefully not getting it. Whatever it was… yeah. Safe to say that Tom was probably right. Teddy _didn’t_ understand.

Tom checked his watch and rose to his feet. “Gotta split. Look,” he sighed, resigned. “Billy’s a little shit sometimes, but he needs someone to kick him in the ass in ways that I can’t. Make it stick, because I just got used to having my couch back.”

Was that an insult, or approval? Knowing Tom, probably both. Teddy nodded slowly. “I intend to. At least, I’ll do my best.”

The door closed behind Tom and Teddy frowned at it for a moment. What the hell? He reached for his phone and dialed Billy’s extension without having to look at the keypad. Three rings and then voice mail. “Hey; it’s me. I just got the weirdest shovel speech ever from your twin...”

\--

“Can I request a stack of drop forms now? I’m ready to pre-sign them and staple them to the essays as I pass them back. It’s come to this.”

Teddy dodged Carol and Danny as they headed out of the department lounge, catching Carol’s knowing laugh but missing her actual reply.

Billy was sprawled in the armchair by the window, his eyes fixed on a spreadsheet on his laptop. His head was bent and the back of his neck was right _there,_ and so tempting. Teddy resisted the urge to kiss him on the nape, but only just. He straddled the chair next to him instead, and rested his folded arms on the back. “Hey there. You ready for lunch?”

“In a heartbeat,” Billy looked up and smiled, and all the work-tension that had been sitting in the base of Teddy’s spine melted away. He was just that easy, apparently. “Let me close this down and I’m all yours.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Teddy grinned back, and the look in Billy’s eye was enough to make him wonder if there was any way to filch that key from Darcy again-

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day, _that’s_ why.” Speak of the devil. Darcy trailed Pepper into the lounge, a pen shoved behind her ear and her gaze intent. “How can he not be doing anything for you?”

“Because he’s going to a conference. That I encouraged him to submit to." Pepper emptied and refilled the coffee machine with quick, efficient movements. "Besides; it's just a day. If he’s going to remember anything, I’d prefer my birthday."

"A day for romance, chocolate truffles and champagne bubble baths," Darcy corrected her, as they left the room again. “If you let Tony slide now, it’ll be twice the work to get him to play ball later.”

Teddy glanced at his watch reflexively; the date blinked solemnly at him from the corner of the display. 2/13. Oh _shit_.

Billy looked bemused. "I'm not sure whether to feel sorrier for Darcy, or for Tommy.”

"Maybe both?" Teddy suggested, scrubbing his hand through the hair on the back of his head. "About that." He should have done something. They hadn't talked about it, but maybe he should just have assumed... "I don't have anything planned for tomorrow," he confessed. "Any decent restaurants would have been booked up weeks ago, and I didn't-"

"It's fine," Billy replied in a rush, his face a picture of naked relief. "I could have made reservations and I didn't either. It's not a big deal. Valentine’s is just a corporate machine made to sell waxy chocolate and red cardboard."

Awesome. Bill Kaplan was empirically proven to be the best boyfriend _ever_.  "So I don't lose boyfriend points?" Teddy tested it anyway. Just in case.

"Depends. What would you be willing to do to earn them back?" Billy leered. Teddy snorted and swatted him in the arm.

"I don't need to be blackmailed for _that_." He considered their options. "Do you still want to get together tomorrow?"

"Yes, absolutely," Billy replied, nodding. He gave Teddy a look. "Not because it's a commercialized pink-ified remnant of a fallen pagan empire, but because I have it on good authority that I have an awesome boyfriend, and I want to spend time with him."

"Some cynic you are, you big softie,” Teddy teased. “Dinner and a movie, my place. I'll cook, you bring the wine."

"You cook?" Billy cocked his head and looked at Teddy oddly, like he’d said something unexpected.

"I cook.” When the choice had been that or 'order pizza for the fourth time this week' _(which wasn't good for her; she'd needed healthier things than that)_ , Teddy had learned. “I even manage not to set things on fire on occasion."

"That’s a rousing recommendation. I’m in."

\--

The buzzer blared as Teddy was sliding the pan into the oven for the final time, and he clicked the timer over hurriedly before wiping his hands off on the – wait. The dish towel was… where?

He wiped them on the apron that he slung over the back of the chair. _No, that looked messy. Put it on the hook inside the pantry_. And he hit the unlock button for the front door.

He wasn’t nervous; there was no _reason_ to be nervous. It was the first time he’d ever prepped a whole meal for Bill, but it was hardly the first – or even fiftieth – time they’d eaten together. Not the first time Billy had been over, either, not even since they’d moved past ‘just friends.’

Still. Days had meaning, whether you wanted them to or not.

The water spat at him from the stove and Teddy turned the heat down under the noodles. The apartment smelled like caramel, that familiar sweet cookie-scent that always lingered for a day after.

When he’d been little, that smell had come along with good report cards and birthdays. As he got older it was from a small plate tucked in beside his elbow while he was studying for exams. It came with glasses of milk after basketball games, and with ‘knock ‘em dead, kiddo,’ and everything that was good and warm and safe.

He’d brought them for her the first time she’d been in the hospital for longer than a day. He’d made them every day for three weeks so that the smell would stay in the house while the hospice nurse and Uncle Kurt took turns sitting at her bedside.

It had been years since he’d made them. It never seemed worth it to bake just for himself.

The knock on the door broke him out of his moment of introspection, and Billy was on the other side when he opened it. He had a bottle of wine in his hands and a smile that grew when Teddy leaned in to kiss him. He tasted like mint, fresh and clean and wonderful.

The timer went off as Billy’s mouth moved slowly under his, Teddy’s hand splayed out over the angle of his hip. Teddy sighed as he pulled off and Billy chased his lips. “Gotta get that,” he objected with a grin. “Remember that whole ‘setting stuff on fire’ thing we wanted to avoid?”

“You didn’t need to go to all this trouble,” Billy followed him to the door of the kitchen and surveyed the mess with a furrowed brow. He radiated nerves, turning the wine bottle around in his hand. “I thought we said ‘low-key’-“

“This is low-key,” Teddy said, sliding the baking sheet on to the stovetop. He hit the timer with a practiced elbow to make it shut up. The kitchen looked like a hurricane had gone through, a combination of a couple of pots and stupidly minimal counter space. “It looks a lot worse than it is,” he added quickly. “It’s noodles, and some stuff for dessert. What’s Valentine’s without the potential for a diabetic coma?”

He’d made a point of setting out the dishes beforehand, accounting for a good third of that lost counter space, but it meant it only took a minute to drain the noodles, add the sauce. Billy was eyeing the cookies with curiosity as he worked, only stepping back into the doorway of the tiny galley kitchen when Teddy hip-checked him out of the way. “Those aren’t the same kind you made for the potluck.” He sounded vaguely disappointed.

“You remembered those?” Teddy asked, flinching back from the face full of steam coming off the drainer in the sink.

Billy shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “They were good. I’m sure these are too,” he added, eyeing the plate. “I mean, I can’t really bake – I burn water half the time. I can hardly pass judgment on anything that anyone else manages to do. Especially when they look like that.”

“Go on,” Teddy offered, and pushed the plate of cookies closer. “You’re obviously not going to be able to relax until you’ve had one,” he joked. “Put yourself out of your misery.”

Billy hesitated for a second, but took one and bit into it. Teddy tensed for a second _(dummy; you know they turned out fine)_ , until Billy’s eyes went round and wide, and his mouth stopped moving, and he stared at Teddy like he’d had some kind of epiphany.

“Oh my god, Teddy.” It came out as more of a whimper. “ _Marry me._ ”

“Whatever, dork.” Teddy rolled his eyes, but he flushed warm with pleasure at the expression on Billy’s face.

“Is that moving too fast? Fine,” Billy had a smear of half-melted toffee chip on the corner of his mouth, and Teddy swiped at it with his thumb. “Then just take me,” Billy offered, leaning in to his touch. “My body is ready. These things are better than foreplay.”

He was ridiculous, and Teddy laughed at him, then handed him the full plates. “How about taking these out to the living room?”

“Bacon spaghetti?” Billy asked as he took the plates, a gleam in his eye even as he tried to keep his face deadpan. “That’s definitely not kosher.”

Teddy had a brief moment of utter panic, but then- no. Billy was messing with him, the big jerk, not able to hide the grin. “Creme fraiche and applewood-smoked bacon carbonara, you philistine,” Teddy replied, picking up the wine glasses. “And you don’t keep kosher; I’ve seen you inhale bacon cheeseburgers. We’ll not even talk about what that stuff is doing to your arteries.”

“I’m young; they’ll heal. And this looks fantastic.” Billy led the way into the living room, the dimmer switch half-down and the table set for two. It was as cozy as Teddy had been able to make the tiny room, cutlery and napkins set out on the low coffee table and pillows on the floor to cushion them as they sat. He hadn’t been able to decide on a movie so he’d left a handful of DVDs on the table. If he left it entirely up to Billy they’d be Netflix-ing ‘Cabaret,’ or something equally ridiculous.

“This is different,” Billy started to say, and he settled down on one of the pillows.

“I thought about candles.” Teddy dropped down to sprawl beside him. “But that seemed like overkill.” Was this already too much? He should have set the real table instead, instead of trying to get cute. “Is this overkill?”

“Not at all.” Billy pulled his legs under him and grabbed for his wineglass. He turned it in his fingers, the half-light shining garnet-deep off the wine inside. “This-“ he paused, and then barreled on. “This is good, this is perfect. This is amazing.”

Teddy arched an eyebrow. “Even for a ‘commercialized pink-ified remnant of a fallen pagan empire’?”

Billy looked puzzled for a second before the light of recognition went on. He laughed and shook his head, tipped his glass in to tap lightly against the rim of Teddy’s. “Even for that.” Teddy clinked his glass right back and they drank,  the red wine rolling thick and round over Teddy’s tongue.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Teddy tried, and the shape of the words felt good in his mouth.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Billy agreed. He took another sip and leaned forward to kiss Teddy again, the heady tannin-spice of the wine overlaying the faint taste of brown sugar. Billy’s voice was barely a murmur when he pulled back, but the blissed-out look on his face said it all for him. “Best one ever.”

\--

Hours later, body sated and replete, dishes long since congealing in the sink, Teddy ran his fingers through Billy’s sweat-dampened hair and sighed softly with contentment. He could see his pants on the bedroom floor without turning his head. Billy’s were somewhere further down the hallway, their shirts still in the living room.

“So,” Billy murmured against his skin, unable to stop himself from talking – naturally – even in the afterglow. “Is there anything you’re _not_ incredible at? Where did you learn to cook?”

Teddy snorted at the compliment, but kept on trailing his fingers down the back of Billy’s neck, along the sleekly defined muscles across the top of his shoulder. “It was something I did with my mom,” he confessed after a moment, and it felt like telling a secret.

Billy’s silence following that made him look down, but his head was still resting solid and real on Teddy’s chest, his hands drifting lightly along Teddy’s side. Then, after a minute, “you don’t talk about her much.”

“People get weird when I do.” But it was safe, here, in the darkness of the bedroom, the blanket and sheets twisted up around their legs and nothing at all existing outside the circle of Billy’s arms. “It’s as though because she’s gone, they don’t know what to say other than ‘I’m sorry.’ But it’s nice to share things sometimes.”

Billy’s voice was soft, his hand smoothing lines down Teddy’s hip. “Tell me about her?”

“What sort of thing do you want to know? I look like her,” he started, hesitating. Billy pressed a kiss to his chest, just above his nipple, in wordless encouragement. “She sold real estate. We weren’t rich, but we did okay. She laughed a lot. She liked to blast the radio while we washed dishes – she loved classic rock – and dance me around the kitchen.

“We went camping all the time, in this shitty old tent and a couple of air mattresses that were more duct tape than anything else. Just… load it all in the car and drive upstate, to these campgrounds that she knew, where you could really see the stars. She knew them all. She could point out all the constellations and the planets, and knew when the best meteor showers were. She’d studied astronomy, before she had me. She always said that she’d go back to school one day, and do a PhD. That had been their plan, before dad died. They’d have kids, and then when we were old enough for school she’d go back too.”

Except it hadn’t worked out that way. He’d had to do it for her.

“She was my best friend,” his breath caught a little, at the memories and how easy it was to let the words spill out, and the familiar wave of _missing her_ burned through him. But Billy’s arms tightened around him, strong and warm, and the tight knot in his chest unraveled. “Not in a Norman Bates kind of way,” he added quickly, and was rewarded with a soft laugh. “It was only the two of us most of the time, so we were close.”

“She sounds incredible,” Billy ventured, shifting up the length of the bed so that his elbow was propped on the pillow and his head was level with Teddy’s. “And a lot like you.”

This kiss was gentle and searching, the passion banked low and replaced by something infinitely sweeter. He could stay here forever, just like this, Billy’s skin warm and smooth under his hands and his lips yielding, their legs tangled together so tightly that he’d lost all awareness of where one of them left off and the other began.

Billy did pull away, eventually, his mouth red from kissing. He stared down at Teddy like he was reading him, searching out the secrets in his eyes, and Teddy … didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. He wanted to be read, and to learn Billy in return, to have Billy unfold beneath him and feel as understood and adored as Teddy did right now.

“Your turn,” Teddy said impulsively. “You said once that you’d tell me about your birth parents someday.” Billy flinched, but only a little, and his shoulders tensed beneath Teddy’s hand. “You don’t have to,” Teddy backpedalled, splayed his hand out wide across Billy’s back in what was meant to be a reassuring touch. “Only if you want to. But- I’d like to hear about it. I want to know about you.”

The tension ebbed under his hand and Billy settled back down beside him, hips and thighs and calves pressed lightly against Teddy’s. He lay on his front and rested his chin on his folded arms, the light from the hall falling in streaks across his back and buttocks.

“I found Tommy first,” Billy started quietly. “Or he found me, however you look at it. We’d both signed up for the adoption registry when we turned eighteen, right at the end of high school. They matched us up pretty quickly. We found Wanda - our birth mother - maybe a year after that.”

This was a gift, something precious Billy was handing to him. Teddy kept his own voice gentle when he replied, determined not to break the moment. "Where?" 

"My mother - the one I grew up with - was the one who made the connection,” Billy said, not meeting Teddy’s eyes. “Wanda was locked up in a mental ward. She'd had a psychotic break when she was pregnant, I guess; that's what her doctor said.” He picked at the edge of one of Teddy’s pillowcases, his other thumbnail finding its way to his mouth as he spoke. Teddy reached out, and rested his hand on Billy’s back. “She'd been bouncing around institutions ever since. She was... gone. Mentally, I mean. She was living in some other world. She knew she had children, but thought we were still little kids. She wasn't lucid for more than a few minutes at a time."  
  
He should leave it be, let Billy tell things at his own speed, but it was hard to let it go. It wasn’t the same, of course; Billy had two living parents. But it was something Teddy could almost understand. "What about your father?"

Billy stared at his folded arms, his head hanging and his bangs falling low across his eyes. Teddy brushed them back, the silk strands tangling in his fingers as they always did. Billy tipped his head into the caress. "No idea," he said after a while. "She didn't put anything on the forms when she dumped us; Tommy in New Jersey, me a couple of weeks later in New York. Just… father unknown."

Teddy frowned, running his hand back down to stroke Billy’s shoulders again. "But you went to see her; what did she say?"

Billy’s mouth quirked up in a tight parody of a smile. "That he was a robot who walked through her walls at night."

And really, what was the appropriate response to a statement like that?

Billy tipped his head up to look at Teddy’s face for the first time since he’d started telling his story. "Psychotic break, remember?" And that wry grimace still lingered there, a dark edge to Billy’s features that Teddy hadn’t seen before.

"So, your biological father is either the Phantom of the Opera or the Terminator? That's kind of cool." His hand never stopped moving, rubbing gentle circles along Billy's back; brushing along the knobs of his spine, the soft skin of the dimples just below the gentle arch of his back.   
  
"Har har." Billy snorted, but the darkness faded and Teddy relaxed a little. Billy arched his back under Teddy’s hand and stretched, catlike. He was quiet for a while, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes. His breathing evened out and he looked almost asleep, until he spoke again.

“I was terrified for a long time after that. That I would end up like her.” He opened his eyes, the brown so dark in the dim light that it looked black. “Psychosis is genetic. I couldn't sleep; not for months. I would close my eyes and be sure that when I opened them everything I knew would be gone. The shrinks got _me_ for 'recurrent obsessive thinking and general anxiety disorder, comorbid with situational depression.'" It sounded like someone else's diagnosis he was repeating, clinical and detached.

"The worst part is,” Billy changed the subject back before Teddy could decide what to say. “She didn't know. She was - she _is_ \- crazy - and she _doesn't know_. For her, everything is normal. So how would _I_ ever know if I snapped?” He smiled faintly. "Maybe I already have, and this is all just a fantasy. I could be locked up in a room with soft walls and rounded corners right now, talking to a sock."

"A sock? I should be offended." Teddy snorted and pressed down with his hand, cupped the gorgeous swell of Billy's buttocks, trailed his fingers along the crease of his thigh and grinned at the way his hips twitched against the sheets in response. "This feels pretty real to me."  
  
"That's just what a hallucination _would_ say." Billy moved in a flurry, crooking one knee over Teddy's leg and rolling to his back, taking Teddy with him. Teddy ended up propped on his arms over Billy, their hips riding against each other. He was still soft, sated and a little sticky from before, but that wasn’t the point. 

If he was a hallucination, some fever dream of Billy’s with only an illusion of his own independence… it was still a pretty decent reality they’d been given. He’d go with it. "Then I guess,” Teddy leaned down and kissed him, a brush of a promise against still-swollen lips. “You'll just have to trust me."

\--

“That’s it, I am _done_.” Billy stormed down the hall, books under his arm and students scattering in his wake. Teddy strode along behind trying to keep up, the irritation spilling off of Billy thickly enough to be palpable.

“Come on,” Teddy argued, his long legs keeping him only half a step behind. “Rethink this, Billy. You’re angry now, but you don’t mean it.” He sidestepped a cluster of students standing at the corner as they came around it. One dark head was familiar in profile, but he didn’t have the time to stop and say hello.

“Oh, I mean it,” Billy stopped dead outside his office door, and poked Teddy in the chest. “I am _through._ And there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.” He turned and jammed his key in the lock, fumbling with the handle. There was that profile again, the sensation of being watched. Teddy turned, but whoever-it-was was gone; he was left with the vague impression of long black hair.

“If I have to sit through one more committee meeting with that dickhead Summers,” Billy continued, swinging the door open and heading inside, “I am going to strangle someone. Possibly myself. The Senate can go hang.”

Teddy followed him in and shut the door, swinging the lock. Billy dropped his books on his desk with a crash that had to be satisfying, and flung himself dramatically into his chair.

“It’s February,” Teddy reminded him, circling the desk and planting a hand on either arm of Billy’s chair. “You’ve got two months until your mid-term tenure review, and only three and a half months to put up with the Senate committee before they have to find a new set of patsies. Bailing out on the committee now that you’re in the home stretch will only damage your service record and give Summers something new to gloat about. Stick it out the last few months,” he  coaxed. “You’ll be glad you did.”

Billy leaned back underneath him and tipped up his chin, challenging Teddy with a look. “Are you offering to make it worth my while?” He was ridiculous and endearing, the goofy grin on his face outweighing the pretend bravado by about a million.  

Teddy felt the smile creep over his features, his eyes locked on Billy’s. “Is this what I’m reduced to? Sexual bribery in order to keep you from self-destructing?”

“No,” Billy grumbled, losing the last of the tension in his body as he conceded. “You’re right. And eminently reasonable about it. As always. But if you wanted to seal the deal,” he arched a speculative eyebrow. “I’m free tonight.”

“It’s a date.” Teddy bent down and kissed him, opened to Billy’s fierce return, his tongue pressing deep into Teddy’s mouth. And this; this was good and right and real. His partner, his passion, his _friend_.  It didn’t get much better than this.

\--

The hot water sluiced down Teddy’s body and swirled down the drain. His whole body hummed with it, the heat trailing over muscles that were deliciously sore, small bruises on his skin the shapes of Billy’s mouth and fingers still exquisitely sensitive the morning after. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time; maybe ever. He and Billy fit together like they had been designed that way. Everywhere Teddy was weak, Billy was strong, and just maybe the same was true the other way around.

It was so easy to imagine this lasting forever, to start thinking of Billy as _home_.

After only dating officially for three weeks? If that wasn’t asking for trouble he wasn’t sure _what_ would qualify. Did Billy even feel remotely the same way? He liked him, obviously enough, but there was a huge difference between ‘yeah, this guy is fun for now’ and ‘let’s buy a house in Connecticut and foster a half-dozen orphans.’

He bit back the surge of worry as he turned off the water and grabbed for a towel. Sooner or later, his luck had to change. Why couldn’t it be with Billy?

He tucked the towel around his waist, his hair sticking up in all directions, and opened the bathroom door.

“What brought this on?”

There were voices in the hallway, Billy talking to someone. He left the bathroom door standing open to vent the last of the steam and ran his fingers through his hair. His own dumb face looked back at him from the half-fogged-over mirror and he stuck out his tongue.

“I don’t know. Maybe a handful of things. First Valentine’s alone since junior year?”

Nate. Teddy froze. What was he doing here? Picking up his mail on a Saturday morning?

“Senior year didn't count; that was just killing our mutual sorrows.” Billy didn’t sound angry; he sounded almost pleased? Nostalgic? Wistful?

“Your mother's peach schnapps under the jungle gym at the elementary school-“ Nate’s voice dropped below the level that Teddy could hear for a minute. Right. He would go to the bedroom, get dressed, let them figure out whatever it was they were talking about. It was good that Billy and Nate were able to communicate like adults; they were all adults here.

“I was in love with you even then.”

Billy laughed, not derisively or angrily, but with affection and ease. There was trust and friendship in that sound. Teddy closed his eyes, imagined how they’d be looking at each other right now. Maybe Billy was regretting it, breaking up with him; was he wishing that Nate was coming back home? How could he have been so _stupid_?

Teddy closed the bathroom door quietly behind him, and headed for the bedroom. He couldn’t be seen from the front hall, not from here. He had a chance to get some clothes on, confront this … whatever it was going to be… with some form of dignity.

The tone of the conversation had changed by the time he’d hauled on jeans and a t-shirt, and he found himself hesitating in the hall.

“Rebecca suggested someone-“

"You've been talking to my _mother_?"

"I know I resisted counseling before, but I’m ready now. I'm not willing to give up on us without a fight."

"Fighting's all we do, Nate. It’s not healthy. Or sane. We’re no good together anymore.”

“And you were seeing Ted Altman.”

The sound of disbelief, a little choked noise from Billy; Nate’s tone didn’t change, his voice warm. Teddy could see them as he came around the corner. They stood in the open door of Billy’s apartment _(their old apartment)_ ; Billy hadn’t let him inside. Nate was wearing a suit jacket with his jeans and he rested the bloom of the red rose in his hand against Billy’s chest.

“I knew about your crush,” Nate continued, eyes only on Billy, conciliatory and gentle. “But I’m willing to forgive and forget. Now that you’ve had a chance to get him out of your system-“ He rolled the rose along Billy’s shoulder and Billy flinched, took half a step back.

Teddy coughed, just once, and Nate looked up. Hurt flashed in his eyes, searing and ugly. _Teddy had done that; had caused another person pain._ His _fault._ “You’re still here,” Nate said flatly. “I heard it was over." He stopped talking, a look of cold anger replacing the confusion and grief that had appeared there a moment before.

“You heard wrong,” Billy interrupted, angling himself between Nate and Teddy. “It’s not a ‘crush,’ and I don’t want to get anything ‘out of my system.’ We’re together. I’m sorry you found out this way, but I’m not sorry for any of the rest of it.”

“Has he already moved you in?” Nate snapped out, his eyes still on Teddy and his words cracking out like a whip. “You work faster than I thought.”

“It’s not like that.” Teddy held up his hands to try and mitigate, Billy’s eyes blazing just as Nate’s were, and _god, how did these guys ever manage to live together for so long when they set each other off so easily?_ “Whatever you think happened… we didn’t start anything until a couple of weeks ago.”

Nate’s lip curled up. “Maybe you started fucking a couple of weeks ago, but the two of you have been doing this a long time. Way too fucking long.”

“Wait, ‘you heard’ what, specifically?” Billy was off on another tangent altogether. “Have you been spying on me?”

Someone opened a door down the hall to peer out at them, and this was escalating way too quickly. Teddy rested his hand on Billy’s shoulder, tried to radiate calm. _Gotta rein this in before the whole floor gets involved. “_ Guys, come on. Is any of that important now? We can talk about this like the rational adults we're supposed to be, if you just settle down.”

“Sure, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Nate lashed out, not moving from where he stood with one foot against the open apartment door. “Because it would make it all better. Because it would mean that Billy wasn’t such a bad guy after all.”

He turned and unleashed his anger on Billy, his face flushed red. He stabbed at Billy with one finger, wheeled to point at Teddy. “That you weren’t thinking about him while you were fucking me. You think I didn’t _notice_? Twelve fucking _years_ , Bill; I notice when my boyfriend is imagining that he’s somewhere else. And as soon as you knew he’d be interested, off you went. _Years_ of our lives down the fucking drain because you couldn’t resist the urge for new dick.

“You’re the worst kind of cheat, Billy. The kind that thinks he’s got some kind of moral defense.”

Billy was rigid under Teddy’s hand, drawn tight and pale. “You are so full of shit,” he shot back, his fists balling up at his sides. “You have no idea _what_ I was thinking – you never _did_ – and it’s not like you never-“

“You need to leave,” Teddy interrupted, closing his hand tighter on Billy’s shoulder. If he could get Nate out, then he could calm Billy down. If he couldn’t, and they kept fighting- his stomach churned and his chest went tight.

Nate took a step back, but he laughed as he did it, bitter and dark. "He’s got you good, doesn’t he? Wrapped right around his little finger, ready to fight his battles for him. Same old story. Whatever Billy wants, Billy gets, and to hell with anybody else.” He grabbed the bloom of the rose and crumpled it in his hand. He opened his fingers and the blood-red petals tumbled, crushed, to the floor. “Fuck _both_ of you." 

He turned and left.

Billy slammed the door as soon as Nate was more than a step or two away, and his whole body seemed to sink in on itself. He scrubbed at his face with the heels of his hands, his fingers shaking. Teddy’s first urge was to grab him and pull him close, hold him until the trembling stopped. The argument, though; it stopped him short. The things Nate had said, the way Billy had looked at him – it made things more complicated, didn’t it?

Billy tipped his head back against the door, and it hit with an audible thump. His eyes were dark and wounded, and he grabbed for Teddy’s hand with something approaching desperation. “That’s not- Teddy, that’s _not_ what happened. I swear.”

Teddy swallowed hard, the lump in his chest unmoving.

Billy’s fingers laced through his, their palms flat together, and there was that fit again, so undeniably _right_. Billy and Nate were over. If he’d asked Billy out in August, while he was still sleeping on Tommy’s couch, would anyone even be questioning it?

“He’s hurting,” Teddy said finally, tugging on Billy’s hand until he got enough leverage to pull him closer. Billy’s arms came around him and he settled there, solid and reassuring. “People say shit they don’t mean when they’re in pain. We both know the truth.”

Billy nodded against his chest, his hands fisting in Teddy’s shirt. His answer, a soft “yeah,” was subdued.

An hour, a stack of pancakes, and a series of bad jokes later, Billy had flour on his nose, Teddy had syrup on his ear, and they were both laughing hysterically about nothing of any importance at all.

That should have been the end of it. But Teddy couldn’t shake the feeling of disquiet that settled into his bones.

\--

The e-mail from Carol three days later was short and to the point.

_My office, 2:30._

_Dr. Carol Danvers, History Chair_

Her bedside manner was hardly reassuring.

At 2:29, Teddy stood outside Carol’s office, the brass nameplate glinting at him maliciously. He’d been unable to shake the creeping tightness in his chest since the email had come in this morning. Add to that the pervasive sense that he was being watched: custodial leaving his office door unlocked this morning, a constant awareness of eyes on him and no-one there when he turned around, a thick tension in the air that had to be paranoia.

What was he always reminding Billy? Don’t borrow trouble? Teddy took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second against the nerves, and knocked.

“Come in.” The reply was brisk, and Teddy realized why when he opened the door. He wasn’t the only one there. An older man, bald and wearing a sharply tailored suit, was sitting across from Carol’s desk, a folder in his lap. Carol was leaning forward across her desk, a frown line hard between her brows.

“Dr. Danvers?” Teddy began carefully, his gaze flickering back and forth between them.

“Sit down, Ted,” Carol instructed, waving him toward the other empty chair. “Let’s get this over with. This is Jasper Sitwell, from legal.”

His heart sank, bottoming out somewhere in the vicinity of his toes. “Legal? What’s going on?” His contract had been signed almost a year ago; had they found something wrong with it? Or maybe someone _had_ broken in to his office? But there hadn’t been anything missing.

They’d figured out who had dumped the chairs in the props shop. That had to be it.

“Doctor Altman,” Sitwell stared him down over the rims of his glasses, as though taking Teddy’s measure. “I’m sorry we had to meet like this; hopefully we can get this all cleared up without too much trouble. Do you know a student by the name of Angel Salvadore?”

Teddy had to stop and think for a minute. The chair pressed hard edges into his legs and he could feel nervous sweat prickling a little along the back of his neck as Sitwell stared him down. “Salvadore-“ it clicked. “Yes. She was in one of my classes last term. History of Europe. She bombed the midterm and stopped coming to class; I think she skipped the exam and ended up failing. I'd have to check my grade book to be absolutely sure.” And then the question, because there was more to it than an inquiry that Carol could have made in thirty seconds on the school network. “Why?”

“Miss Salvadore has made some very serious allegations, Dr. Altman, and as per our usual process, we will be opening an investigation.”

His mouth went dry and his tongue felt thick. “What allegations?” Get it out, get it in the open, find out what the axe looked like that was about to end his career.

“Sexual harassment,” Carol supplied the answer, leaning back in her chair with her arms folded in front of her. “Ms. Salvadore claims that you promised her good grades in return for sexual favors. And that when she refused, you gave her a failing grade.”

“What? She said _what_?” _Shitshitshit shit._

“No. Absolutely not. It’s not true!” He stared at Carol beseechingly; surely she had to know. She knew him well enough by now to know that he would never-? She smiled tightly, which was a little bit encouraging.

Teddy buried his face in his hands and tried to pull up all the memories that he could; there had been that thing in his office- “She flirted once,” he admitted with dawning realization, and Sitwell jotted something down in the book open on his knee. “She came into my office after the midterm and asked for extra credit, flashed her cleavage. I didn’t catch on to what she was suggesting, not at first, but then she grabbed my leg and I had her leave.”

“Miss Salvadore-“

 _(“_ Ms _,” Carol murmured, just low enough that Teddy wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard her)_

“-Has given quite a thorough statement,” Sitwell kept going, ignoring her. “Including a bracelet that she says was broken when you-“ he flipped through his notes, “-grabbed her by the wrist to prevent her from leaving your office. She claims you still have the bracelet in your possession.”

“I _didn’t_ ,” Teddy insisted. “Oh god.” The penny dropped. “The ID bracelet. She lost it in my office that day. I meant to get it back to her, but she never came back to class… and I completely forgot.”

“You still have it?” Carol frowned at him.

“Yeah.” Everything flashed before him as he sat there; Angel, the stupid bracelet with its stupid broken clasp, his classes, _Billy_ \- all of it was turning into smoke unless he could make them believe him. “That is, I probably do. I haven’t thought about it in months.”

Sitwell coughed to get his attention. “Were there any witnesses to any of this? Anyone who can corroborate your story?”

Teddy shook his head slowly, his mouth tasting of ash. “No. We were alone in my office that day.” Which meant it was going to be Teddy’s word against hers. And in any other situation, he realized with dawning certainty, he would be fully in favor of believing anyone who came forward with that kind of complaint. Except this time, he _knew_ he didn’t do it.

But who would listen?

 “Are you sure you didn’t say or do anything that might have been misconstrued?” Sitwell continued, his lips pursed as he watched and catalogued the expressions flickering across Teddy’s face. “She’s a pretty girl,” Sitwell led. “Sometimes eyes can wander, even when you don’t mean them to-“

Carol glared at him darkly. “I’m sure you didn’t just say that,” she began.

“Even if I was the sort of guy who would take advantage like that – which I’m _not_ ,” Teddy jumped in to answer the question before it could get totally derailed. He glanced at Carol nervously, but it’s not like it was a secret of any kind… she had to already know. “I’m _gay_.”

Teddy straightened in his chair and spread his hands as if to add a resounding ‘so what the _fuck_ ’?

“The short skirt and the-“ he gestured vaguely around his chest, ears burning with the humiliation of the situation. “It’s just not my thing,” he finished lamely. “I barely even noticed that she was coming on to me until she was almost in my lap.”

Sitwell laughed, he actually _laughed,_ and leaned back in his chair. The slick, fake ‘we’re all boys here together’ smile vanished, replaced for a brief moment with a broad and honest grin. “Right. If this does end up going before the disciplinary committee, you’re going to have to find a better way to phrase that.” He arched a speculative eyebrow at Teddy. “Do you have a partner? Husband, or boyfriend?”

Was that going to be a good thing or a bad thing? Teddy answered the only way he could. Honestly. “Yeah. I’m dating Bill Kaplan. He’s another professor in the History department.”

Carol was definitely not surprised.

“What happens now?” Teddy fought the urge to white-knuckle the chair arms. Were they going to pull him from his classes? Suspend him? They couldn’t fire him without actual _evidence_ , could they?

“There’s going to be an investigation,” Carol filled in. “Jasper’s going to talk to Salvadore and her lawyers-“ _lawyers? She hired lawyers?_ “and anyone else who might be of help. If you can think of anyone you might have talked to on that day, anyone you might have mentioned the bracelet to, or the meeting, give their name to him. You’ll keep teaching, but it would be a good idea to have your TAs sit in on meetings with students from now on.

“They’ve got thirty days to get back to everyone with findings and a recommendation. Sam Wilson is our union rep, and you're entitled to have him sit in on all your meetings about this. Legal will provide a lawyer for you if it becomes necessary.” She rested her chin on her hands and stared at Teddy for a moment. Then she sat up and nodded with what almost looked like sympathy. “We’ll get this cleared up, Ted.”

Sitwell nodded, jotted something down. “Dr. Danvers has about covered it,” he finished up for her. “Take my card, and send me an email with anything else you can remember. I’ll come back with you to your office to collect the bracelet, and we’ll go from there.” He held out his card and Teddy took it, folding it between his fingers automatically.

“We’ll be needing to talk to you a few more times as we go through the process, so don’t leave town,” Sitwell joked, gathering his things together and getting to his feet. He seemed a lot more relaxed now than he had at the start of the meeting, now, Teddy supposed, that the boom had been lowered on someone else.

Now _what the hell am I supposed to do?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teddy’s cookies are based on this recipe:
> 
> Teddy’s cookies are based on this recipe:
> 
> Edit: I'm not sure what's going on, but AO3 is stripping my link formatting. Let's try without the coding:
> 
> http://joythebaker.com/2011/09/brown-sugar-cookies
> 
> Brown Sugar Cookies (Joy the Baker). 
> 
> I do not lie; I would marry these cookies if I could. They are _epic_.   
>  I know that butter is sacrosanct to a lot of bakers, but I actually like the texture much better with shortening (Crisco) instead (BLASPHEMY and transfats, I know, I know. It’s still better.) Also be very careful with the salt content / definitely use unsalted butter. It doesn’t take much to make them slightly too salty rather than mouth-perfection.
> 
> And the carbonara recipe is here: 
> 
> http://www.babble.com/best-recipes/eric-riperts-romantic-french-carbonara-for-two
> 
> Eric Ripert’s French Carbonara. I _do_ keep kosher, so I have no idea what this tastes like, but I’ve been assured that it’s amazing. 
> 
>  
> 
> The regulations Carol cites for sexual harassment investigations are based on NYU’s regulations for the same.


	10. March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein mistakes are made, and so are repairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the amazing feebleapb and xandertheundead. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
>  
> 
> [Come hang out with me on tumblr.](http://ardatli.tumblr.com)

**_Grad/Fac Seminar (Speakers: Dr. S. Versurfer) – Friday, March 15_ **

**_Spring Recess Monday, March 18 - Sunday, March 24_ **

****

\--

  
“What am I supposed to do?” Teddy stared blankly between his fingers, head in his hands. The long wood table at the faculty club was cool under his elbows, the background hum of voices and clinking of cutlery familiar, but not comforting. Billy rubbed his back, hand moving in easy circles over the fabric of his shirt.

“Wait it out, I suppose,” Cassie frowned, poking at the remnants of her lunch with her fork. “I mean, you have all her work on record, right? So the truth will come out one way or another.”

“It’s that final exam that’s going to screw him,” Kate stabbed the air with her fork. “There’s no way to prove that Teddy didn’t junk her paper in retaliation.”

“She wasn’t there,” Teddy sank forward until his forehead rested on the table. “She never turned in a final. And there was nothing to retaliate for!” He lifted his head to look around the table at his friends, resting his chin on his arms.

“Since she wasn’t there, then that’ll be reflected on the proctor’s forms,” Eli said, steepling his fingers in thought. Teddy could practically see the gears turning in his head as he worked through the possibilities. “Legal called me this morning, I’m guessing to set up a meeting time to find out what I remember.”

Kate nodded. “They’ll check that list against the grade list; if she didn’t sign in, that’ll be the end of it. No exam written means no exam paper for you to throw away, and the rest of her story doesn’t make any sense without that.”

“Unless she convinces them that he paid off the proctor,” Tommy suggested, his arms folded as he leaned back in his chair. Jerk. He nudged Teddy with one knee. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Tommy!” Billy snapped, but Teddy just pushed his plate toward Tommy with his elbow.

“You’re just a beacon of positive energy, aren’t you?” Darcy poked Tommy in the ribs and he squirmed aside to avoid her finger.

Tommy pulled Teddy’s plate closer to himself and stabbed a fry with his fork. “Call me a realist.”

Cassie elbowed Jonas and he put away his phone, looping one arm over her shoulder and the back cushion of the booth. “But since Teddy’s telling the truth, he won’t have anything to worry about.” She smiled at Teddy encouragingly, and Kate ruffled his hair.

Tom shook his head, managing to look both condescending and sympathetic at the same time. “That’s sweet, but naïve. Whether or not Salvadore’s name is on the exam attendance list, the reality is neither of them can prove what happened in Ted’s office that day. And once it comes down to his word against hers, that’s when records get opened up and it all becomes a trial by reputation. If you’re lucky, she’ll have previous black marks on hers. I’m assuming you’re so clean that you squeak.”

“That’s gross,” Teddy couldn’t help imagining how that would go; were they interviewing dorm mates and RAs as well as his colleagues? Would Angel’s reputation somehow become the deciding factor in which one of them the tribunal believed? “Just because I know she’s lying now doesn’t mean that she deserves that.” He trailed off, wrestling with the idea. “There’s got to be some way to convince her to tell the truth without making this some kind of inquisition.” Because he’d be damned if he’d be a party to that.

“The whole department is behind you on this, Teddy,” Billy stopped moving, his hand splayed out flat between Teddy’s shoulder blades. His hand was warm, strong and comforting, and it was something to focus on beyond the twisted anxiety gnawing at his gut. “And so are we. We’ll get through this. It’ll all work out.” And his jaw was set with fierce determination, a fire in his eyes. “We’ll find a way.”

\--

“I’m not offering to take a lie detector test, Bill,” Teddy said firmly. He tossed the essay he was marking back in the stack on Billy’s dinner table and slumped in his chair. The Saturday afternoon was supposed to have been a quiet one; just Bill, Ted, popcorn, and a movie night as a reward if they both managed to get through the stacks of grading and prep that had been piling up.

New relationships were awesome, but they had a tendency to be really distracting when it came to getting any, y’know, actual work done. Teddy had been thinking of the day as a gift to himself, for surviving the week. Because god knew he needed something good in his life right about now, and Billy was normally a wonderful distraction.

Not this time, though. Billy was pacing across his living room, back and forth in long strides until Teddy had to fight the urge to stick a foot out and trip him just so that he’d stop. “But why not? That way they’ll know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Because they’re not admissible in any kind of legal proceeding, that’s why.” And when had Teddy become the rational one in a relationship? “And I’d probably be so nervous about the whole thing in the first place that I’d throw off the readings and end up indicting myself.”

“There’s got to be something-“

Teddy sighed inwardly, careful not to let his exasperation show on his face. Maybe if he just kept quiet and let Billy rant, he’d burn himself out. If Teddy didn’t say anything to encourage him… well, he had to run out of breath eventually, didn’t he?

“Even if they rule for you, what if this goes on your record? It could come up again at your tenure review.”

“You’re the one with the tenure review coming up,” Teddy felt obliged to point out. “Mine won’t be for another two years. I’m sure this will all have blown over long before then.” Cassie was too idealistic for him to really trust her assessment, but when Kate and Eli agreed that his chances were good, well. He had to cling on to something, didn’t he? “It’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you _care_ if you lose your job?” Billy stopped pacing and grabbed the back of the chair beside him, his brow furrowed and his frown deep and concerned.

Teddy tilted his head up and looked at Billy, quirking an eyebrow. There was absolutely no point in encouraging him. One of them had to stay calm. “Of course I care,” he started slowly, and reached out for Billy’s hand. Billy brushed his fingertips against Teddy’s but didn’t reach out any further. “But at this point I’ve _done_ everything that I possibly can.”

Two interviews now with legal, a typed up document including every memory he had of every interaction with Angel as well as copies of every assignment she’d handed in, attendance records, and his copy of the proctor’s report from his exam. If that wasn’t enough, then… well, he wasn’t sure what. He’d probably have to spend another day searching through his files for whatever else they’d decided they needed to see.

“And stressing out about it,” he finished, as a reminder to himself as well, “isn’t going to change anything.”

“What if they find against you? You’ll never be able to teach again. Not here. You’d have to job hunt again, and you could end up teaching business correspondence at a community college in…” Billy paused, searching for a place name, “I don’t know. Podunk, Iowa. Your nearest neighbors would be cows.”

“Moo,” Teddy answered playfully, but Billy didn’t laugh. “Relax, Would you? It won’t happen.” Billy was being ridiculous, and winding himself up into a frenzy, and he was going to give himself an aneurism over something that wasn’t even _about_ him to begin with. Teddy frowned, the irritation beginning to prickle under his skin. Why couldn’t Billy just drop it? “This is my problem, Bill, not yours. Why are _you_ freaking out more than I am?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Billy gestured sharply, and ran his fingers back through his hair. “Maybe I’m just getting used to having you around. Besides,” he smiled tentatively, but the nervous energy was still radiating off of him. “There’s a certain level of out-freaking that has to be done. If you’re not going to step up, someone’s got to pick up your slack.”

Okay, that was better. Teddy snorted a small laugh and Billy relaxed for a second. Teddy reached out and grabbed Billy’s hand this time and pulled him down for a kiss, brushing his lips against Billy’s jaw, his mouth- Maybe they could forget about all of this for a while and just _be._ But the momentary truce didn’t last

“Why did you say this wasn’t my problem?” Billy asked. He braced one arm on the back of Teddy’s chair and leaned over, taking up Teddy’s space. His brow was drawn low in deep, concerned furrows and he was frowning again. “Because I like to think that things that affect you are going to affect me as well. I know it’s only been a couple of months, but still- Iowa. It would be a long commute, and we wouldn’t qualify for spousal hires anywhere outside the east coast even if we _were_ married.”

Teddy groaned and rubbed his hand across his face. Billy backed off, and the loss of the warmth of his body and the closeness was actually a relief. “Jesus, Billy; can’t you just drop it?” Teddy sat up. Billy was standing further away, and the wave of frustration was too strong this time to be ignored.

“Every day at work this week I’ve had to deal with fallout from this idiocy. People stare at me in the halls and my students stop talking the second I enter the room. All of my free time has been spent on dealing with legal, or pulling together records and documentation… I just want one day where I can get my actual work done, and maybe spend some time _not thinking_ about the bullshit that is my life right now.”

“Oh, now I’m ‘bullshit’?” Billy was looking at him like he was a challenge, just… _radiating_ this pissed-off energy, and all Teddy wanted to do was crawl into bed and hide.

"That’s not what I said, and you know it,” he finally let loose, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. Billy took a step back and there was a weird flash of triumph, some kind of ‘a-hah’ in his eyes that made Teddy stumble over his words before he found them again. _Really? Is_ this _your game?_

“Are you _trying_ to see how far you can push me? Because congratulations! You found it,” Teddy snapped. How hard would it have been to just let it go, kiss him back, work out the worry and fear in muscle and skin and sweat? But no – Billy had to push and _push_ until Teddy was as tight a bundle of raw nerves as he was. Stupid and obnoxious and _infuriating-_ “Gold star for you. Is this how you get your jollies? By pissing people off? Christ; no _wonder_ Nate kept leaving.” He regretted it the second it came out of his mouth, but by then it was too late.

Billy’s eyes flashed with raw hurt and he was firing right back, his voice raised and his hands balling up at his sides. "Oh, and you're Mr. Easygoing, is that it? No-one even try to understand crazy Kaplan, everyone _knows_ it can't be Teddy's fault. He's too _nice_."  
  
“You've been spoiling for a fight for days.” Teddy was vibrating with it as well, taut as a bowstring and his jaw clenched and aching. “Did you get sick of the calm? You’ve got to get your rush somehow, don’t you? And now that Nate’s not here I’m it. Well, find it somewhere else.” Teddy swept his pile of marking into his bag and slung it over his shoulder in a swift and furious motion. It slammed against his side, the weight of the papers and his laptop knocking the wind from him for half a second.

“I'm not your emotional punching bag.” Teddy jabbed a finger at Billy, anger casting the world in shades of red. “I'm not _anyone's_ punching bag, ever again."  
  
Teddy jammed his arms into his jacket sleeves, his hand catching and tangling until he forced it through. He half-registered the sound of a couple of stitches popping in the lining, but it hardly mattered. “I'm out of here. Call me once you’ve pulled your head out of your ass.”

He slammed the door on the way out. The bang was intensely satisfying.

He felt sick.

\--

Billy didn't call. 

\--

He didn’t call and while he apparently showed up to teach his classes, he wasn’t in his office at all on Monday. Or Tuesday.

Not that Teddy checked.

\--

Wednesday was Day Four, and Teddy’s distraction was starting to become a problem. Kate and Eli kept giving him sympathetic looks and not saying anything, which was bad enough, but then Darcy had asked about ‘trouble in paradise’ three times before Teddy had finally snapped at her sharply enough that she’d flinched.

He’d ended up buying her a box of chocolates in apology, so at least _she_ was speaking to him again.

Thank god for lecture-free Wednesday afternoons.

The bus ride out to the cemetery was shorter than he remembered, the long green lawn between the road and the gravel paths wider. A right and then two lefts and he was sixteen again, the gravel crunching under his feet and an identical blue sky sitting high and remote overhead. The white marble stone sat there like an accusation, the etched-in dates sharp-edged and stark in their absoluteness.

_Sarah Marie Altman_

_01/23/1958 – 06/25/1997_

_Mark Theodore Altman_

_09/14/1955 – 08/22/1981_

The cemetery was quiet. There were birds singing somewhere, and the faint drone of cars passing in the distance, but little else to disturb the cathedral-silence of the space.

Teddy laid the brightly-colored bouquet below the stone, sat on the grass at the foot of the graves, and drew his knees up to his chest. The ground was cool and damp beneath him and he’d have grass stains on his slacks, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Hey, guys,” he said, his voice falling dead in the quiet. He stopped. Where could he even begin? “It’s been a long time. I’m sorry.” His throat closed for a moment and he struggled against the feeling.

“Is it weird that seven months feels longer than all the years I was in Portland? Maybe because I’m home again and I could have gotten out here more. I fell out of the habit somewhere along the way, and I shouldn’t have. Though it’s not like you can ground me for missing curfew anymore.” His mouth twitched up in the corners in a smile that quickly vanished.

“I should have come when things were going well,” Teddy wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on one. “I don’t want you to think that I only want to talk to you when I’m having problems.”

His breath did catch, then, and the empty ache in the core of him grew and grew and threatened to swallow him whole.

“I always want to talk to you.” It wasn’t the talking _to_ that he longed for, though, but the talking _with_ , and that was something he could never have again.

“But this time- oh, _mom_. I screwed up real bad this time. And I don’t know how much of it I can fix.”

His eyes prickled and the world blurred; Teddy scrubbed his sleeve across his face and only succeeded in making his cheeks damp. What was the point? There was no-one here to see him anyway.

“Work was going really well, except for this one thing. And I should have been smarter at the beginning. I shouldn’t have met with her behind a closed door, or maybe I should have gone to Carol immediately after it happened, but I didn’t. And now I’m in a real mess.

“And on top of that…” he trailed off, looked up and around, but other than the distant form of a gardener, there was no movement other than a few gently swaying tree branches. “I met this guy.

“He’s amazing. Mostly. But he’s just as screwed up as I am.”

He thought he felt silent recrimination from the air. He could see her there, hands on her hips and her head tilted as though to say ‘ _Theodore Altman_ , _don’t you dare talk about yourself that way._ ’

“You weren’t here for the whole Greg thing or you’d understand.” Teddy explained to the figure in his mind’s eye.

“It was my fault. I was so alone, and I thought Greg was the answer. That if I could be what he wanted, I wouldn’t _be_ alone anymore. But he kept raising the bar until I had turned myself inside out and the face in the mirror wasn’t mine anymore. I was so fucking _stupid_ to fall for his games.” Teddy’s jaw hurt from grinding his teeth, and he forced his fingers to unlock from around the fabric of his pants.

“Oh _, mom_.” The words left his mouth as a whispered plea. “Billy is amazing in all the ways Greg wasn’t. I think he really likes me, just… for _me_. He’s as scared as I am, and he’s a ridiculous bundle of stress, and I knew all that and I still let things get out of hand. I shouldn’t…

“There are a lot of things I shouldn’t have done. Maybe it’s the whole ‘right person wrong time’ thing, but I wanted him so badly.”

Teddy sniffled, and it sounded louder in his own ears than his entire confession together. He had never been able to imagine his father as anything but a still image, but he could close his eyes and remember his mother’s arm around his shoulders, her voice, her hair and how it felt to bury his face in it.

If he closed his eyes and held still for long enough maybe he could smell her perfume, the scent of the roses from the bouquet lingering lightly in the air. She would know what to say, what to do.

 _‘Call him,’_ she’d say, _‘don’t let pride get in the way of something you truly want.’_

But how could he now, when Billy hadn’t called? He’d left the door open and Billy hadn’t walked through.

Teddy shook with the tears and curled in on himself, the hole inside black and wide and emptier than it had ever been before. “I think you'd have liked him, mom. I think you'd have liked him a lot.

“I don’t know how we got so turned around. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

 _One step at a time,_ he thought he heard the wind say.

But it was only his imagination.

He sat there for a long time, head down on his arms and his arms wrapped around himself as though to hold the bleak cold in. The chill and the damp started seeping into his bones, and when Teddy lifted his head, the sun had sunk lower toward the horizon.

If this were a movie, he felt the treacherous thought slip in, he’d turn around and Billy would be there, sitting on the bench, waiting. He’d have known where Teddy would go, would be walking toward him now with his hands in his pockets and his head hanging low and an apology waiting to be kissed from his lips.

Teddy held the image in his mind until he could almost feel Billy’s presence there, smell his aftershave, hear the soft scuff of a footstep on the path behind him.

He would slip his arms around Teddy’s neck now and Teddy would lean up into him and bury his face in the crook of Billy’s shoulder and all would be forgiven.

Another soft sound.

_Maybe…_

He turned.

The green lawn rolled away unbroken but for the regular jutting shapes of the headstones. There was nothing alive here but him, and a small squirrel dashing in circles up the trunk of a tree.

Teddy pulled himself to his feet and tugged his jacket close around himself as he began his slow walk back along the paths toward the gate.

He was alone, but he wasn’t entirely without options. It was time to start trying to put the pieces back together. However he could.

\--

The law firm that Tom worked for was in a high-rise, the etched names of the partners on the glass doors imposing and impressive. Teddy had been taking a chance, showing up without an appointment or even a call ahead, but it had been a move made entirely on impulse and he didn’t want the chance to talk himself out of it.

It made sense, though, even logically. NYCU was a lot bigger than one guy’s problems; they were going to want to resolve this as quickly as possible and with the least amount of disruption. Sure, they’d promised him representation, but would everything they did actually be in his best interests, or the school’s?

Teddy didn’t need to think too hard about that answer.

Tom was a corporate lawyer, not a criminal or civil guy, but at least he was a friend. Or at least, he might be a friend. God knew what Billy had told him.

Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“Mr. Altman? Mr. Shepherd will see you now.” The receptionist hustled him down the hall before Teddy had a chance to leave. She bustled along in front of him, graying hair in a tight bun, and waved him through another glass door before her heels clicked back down the hall toward the glass-and-steel waiting room.

Tom was on the phone when Teddy stepped in, pacing back and forth across his office floor and gesturing in the air as he spoke. He cupped one hand over the speaker when he saw Teddy, and waved him to one of the chairs before turning back to his phone call. "Hang on, Norman; I'll call you back." He hung up and dropped the cell phone back on his desk as Teddy sat.

The chair was as uncomfortable as the rest of the office looked, all edges and sleek lines that looked great but seemed designed not to let anyone relax. Which, when he thought about it, was probably the idea. Tom’s expression was unreadable, neither friendly nor condemning, and he leaned back against the edge of his desk and folded his arms, waiting for Teddy to say something.

“This isn’t about Billy,” Teddy felt compelled to say. He shifted uneasily in the chair and settled for leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Tom relaxed a tiny bit, a shift in expression only visible around the eyes. “And I know that you have no real reason to trust me, or believe that I didn’t do anything wrong, except that Billy does.” He paused, heat rising in his cheeks, and corrected himself. “Did.”

Tom shifted, braced his hands on the edge of his desk and sat there, his light grey suit bunching up at the cuffs. The late afternoon light spilled through the window, orange-golden and not blocked out by the other buildings this high up. “That doesn’t say much. Everyone knows that Billy’s got shitty taste in men.”

Teddy squeezed his eyes closed for a second and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Thanks. The point is, Angel and this case they’re building against me. We both know that the university is going to protect me only in so far as it’s covering its own ass. Which may not be enough.”

Tom frowned and cocked his head. “So why come to me? I’m not that kind of lawyer. You want to buy out a company or make a bid for an international merger, I’m your guy, but I don’t think that’ll help _you_ much.”

“But you know the system,” Teddy broke in, clasping his hands and then abruptly letting go; the position looked too much like praying. Or begging. “If you have any ideas about what I can do now.” _We’ll find a way,_ Billy had said, and he needed some of that surety now. “Because I’ve given them everything I can and I’m afraid that they’re going to hang me anyway.”

The silence hung there for a beat and then Tom walked around his desk, grabbed for a daybook that was sitting on his blotter. He flipped through the pages as he walked back around, and dropped easily down onto the other empty guest chair. “She filed the complaint about a week and a half ago, right?” Tom’s phone buzzed on the desk and he ignored it.

Teddy had to stop and think for a second, but- “Yeah, that’s right. The end of February.”

“Isn’t that weird timing for a grade complaint?” Tom’s fingers drummed on the page and he looked pensive, the first almost-genuine expression Teddy had seen on Tom’s face since walking in. “Waiting until the middle of the next term?”

Teddy blinked, and thought it through. “I guess so? Normally when students want a reread, they ask for it in the first few weeks after marks are posted. But they have something like two years after the fact to make an appeal. I never really thought about it,” he confessed. “Do you think it means something?”

The drumming picked up speed and then Tom stopped abruptly. He snapped the book closed, but shrugged with careful nonchalance. “It probably doesn’t. But I’ll look into a couple of things and get back to you.” He studied Teddy’s face for a moment, and then grinned. “If anyone asks, we never had this conversation. And you’re going to owe me, big guy.”

That was almost a return to what passed for normal (how had this become normal?) and Teddy’s shoulders unknotted. “Anything,” he swore fervently. “If you can help me clear this up, I’ll get you whatever you want.” He paused for half a second, remembering who he was talking to. “Within, you know, the actual limits of physics and my sad academic salary.”

Tom snorted and tossed his book back onto his desk. “Save it for my idiot brother.” He pinned Teddy with a look.

Teddy’s mouth went dry and he wanted to ask – _what has he said, is he sorry, does he miss me? Will he hang up on me if I call? –_ but he didn’t.

The receptionist knocked briskly and opened the door before Tom could reply. She looked at Teddy as though he were an inconsiderate inconvenience, then away. “Mr. Shepherd? Your four o’clock is here.”

Teddy got to his feet as Tom thanked her, and she vanished with another disapproving look. “Tom – for whatever it’s worth, whatever Billy’s told you-“

Tom held up a hand. “Save it for him. I’m not playing go-between. I’ll get back to you when I have anything on your case. Now-“ he pointed at the door, a small twist of  a smile on his mouth. “Get out, before you end up crashing my next meeting.”

His phone couldn’t get a signal in the elevator, and by the time Teddy walked out into the street he’d changed his mind again. It was too easy to screw things up with just words. He needed to see Billy, be near him, and find out if there was anything left to be saved.

\--

It was mostly dark by the time he got to Billy’s building, the streetlights on and the traffic heavy. Right. So he would go up to the apartment, and say – what? ‘I’m sorry,’ obviously, because as much as Billy had been the instigator, Teddy had taken a few potshots of his own. ‘I want to fix this,’ and ‘I miss you’ and –

And up ahead, about half a block away, Nate was coming out of the building.

Teddy stopped walking. Nate didn’t see him there, wasn’t looking anywhere but ahead. He looped the strap of a messenger bag ( _Overnight bag?_ No. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ believe that.) over his shoulder and headed off in the opposite direction.

The wall of the building behind Teddy was nice and solid and cool and he sagged against it. This was getting ridiculous. He had to think about it logically. It had only been a few days since they’d fought, and Billy had sworn that he was done with Nate completely.

But he was vulnerable, stressed out, and even bad exes were known quantities. It was easy to fall back into old patterns.

But it was _Billy_ , and for all his problems he was a fundamentally honest person. If Teddy couldn’t trust him enough, if he couldn’t stop himself from freaking out a little just because he saw Nate leave a building he used to live in… well. Maybe it wasn’t _Billy_ who had needed to wait longer before starting a relationship.

One step at a time.

Teddy headed up the front drive and opened the glass doors to the lobby. The warm air wasn’t as much of a contrast to the world outside as it had been that first night, but he was still struck with the flash of memory.

The doorman was sitting behind the semi-circular desk, his crossword puzzle in front of him and a pen lodged behind his ear. He nodded at Teddy as the door closed behind him, watched with an expectant look as Teddy approached. “Good evening, Mr. Jarvis,” Teddy began politely, as he always did. Jarvis smiled.

“Good evening to you as well, Doctor Altman. It’s been a few days, hasn’t it?”

Teddy scrubbed his palm across the back of his neck sheepishly, and nodded. “Yeah; I guess it has. Can you buzz me up for Doctor Kaplan, please?”

Jarvis frowned, and shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.” The sensation of his heart dropping through the floor was enough to make Teddy feel sick. Billy had blackballed him from the apartment? And after only one disagreement? But Jarvis kept talking. “He’s gone out for the evening. With Doctor Bishop, I believe. They left about an hour ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Teddy said, perplexed. “I thought I just saw Nate leaving.”

“Oh yes,” Jarvis nodded in response to the statement-that-was-a-question. “Mr. Richards came by to get his mail.” He glanced around at the empty lobby, lowered his voice slightly and continued, as though betraying a confidence. “Doctor Kaplan started leaving it down here at the desk, so he wouldn’t have to go all the way upstairs.” Jarvis’ tone was casual, but the look he trained on Teddy was piercingly sharp. “Shall I tell Doctor Kaplan that you came by?”

Teddy hesitated, relieved and tangled up and unsure again all at once. The normal thing, of course, would be to leave a message and hope that Billy would call. But he hadn’t yet. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't,” Teddy hedged. But he didn’t quite say ‘no.’

Jarvis was still looking at him, white hair carefully combed around a bald spot that couldn’t be hidden and his uniform sharply pressed. “Did something happen between you?” he asked, after a second’s pause. “I don't mean to pry, of course. It’s only that he's not been himself the past week.”  
  
“No…” Teddy started to say, then shook his head. “Yes," he sighed in defeat. "I don't know. We had a fight. I said some stupid things. So did he.”  
  
“These things happen,” Jarvis took the pen from behind his ear and wrote something down on his newspaper. When he looked up again his expression was earnest and bordering on warm, his eyes crinkling deeply at the corners. “Do you mind a piece of advice?"

Teddy had the distinct impression that no matter what he said, he was going to her it anyway. He nodded and smiled regardless; there was no sense in being impolite.

"Everyone in the world is a little bit broken, in our own unique ways,” Jarvis said sagely. “And there’s no such thing as a relationship without a rough edge or two. The trick is to find someone whose particular brand of crazy works with yours.

"For what it's worth, Doctor Altman, it would be a shame not to see you come around anymore. Doctor Kaplan’s been much happier since he started seeing you.”

The moment was almost confessional. It was tempting to say more, to pour everything out to this fatherly old man with the kind eyes. Teddy stepped on the impulse and bottled it back. What he had to say was for Billy, no-one else. “Thanks, Mr. Jarvis,” he said instead, and shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets. His fingers coiled around his phone, but it stayed cold and silent.  “Take care of yourself.”

Jarvis nodded, clasping his hands and watching Teddy go. “And you, sir.”

\--

Teddy's phone buzzed at one that morning. Teddy was still awake; with spring break starting, it wasn't like he had to be anywhere first thing in the morning. Dog Cops had rolled over into some stupid rom-com while he hadn't been paying attention. Teddy pushed the pizza box aside to find the remote and shut the damn thing off before the dippy blonde starlet-du-jour could embarrass herself in front of Generic Leading Hunk #4.

Creeping cynicism was perhaps a sign that he should be in bed.

His phone was flashing at him insistently and he grabbed it, sparing only the barest glance at the alert on the screen.

Billy.

He sat bolt upright and fumbled with the phone, screwing up the password twice before he got it open.

The message was so short and simple that it could mean anything. Teddy imagined he could hear a whisper of hope in the words, but it could just as easily be irritation or taciturn fury.

**B: Jarvis said you came by?**

Traitor.

Teddy sat there for a minute, phone in his hands.

**T: wanted to talk**

**B: I was out w/Kate**

**T: Yeah, he said**

**B: Do you still want to talk?**

**T: I think we should**

**B: Before you say anything else, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Let me prove it.**

**B: are you busy tomorrow? Will you meet me on campus?**

**T: where? Why campus? Everything’s closed for spring break**

**B: Please? 9 pm @ the science quad?**

He sat there staring at the screen and trying to make sense of his thoughts. What was all this cloak and dagger bullshit for? Teddy flopped back on the couch and sagged there.

**B: Teddy?**

Billy's apology settled in, filling the cracks and crevices of his anger and frustration. And he was mildly curious. The science quad? What was there that either of them could possibly want? Or even access?

He gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment, and then made his decision.

**T: sure. 9 tomorrow.**

Teddy hit send and turned off his phone, then buried it between the couch cushions just for good measure. Life was too complicated, and people were too weird. He was going to bed. Everything else would have to wait until the morning.

\--

Teddy left his phone off the rest of the next day. Anyone who needed to get in touch with him would have to do things the old-fashioned way and leave a message. He got a lot more work done when he wasn’t jumping for the phone every time he thought it might be buzzing.

Ten minutes to nine found him slouching across campus, his coat collar turned up against the wind. The quad was dead quiet and the buildings were dark; a dog barked somewhere in the distance, but other than that, he was alone.

The campus had theoretically been designed to minimize walking, the buildings for the arts departments clustered in one corner and the science buildings in the other, little fortresses in their solitudes. The science quad was mostly brutalist in its design, short, squat buildings made of heavy poured concrete looking like nothing so much as a series of interconnected bomb shelters. It was hardly a picturesque setting for a date, and Teddy’s curiosity piqued around his discomfort despite himself.

Billy was waiting by the door to the physics building, half in shadow and half illuminated by the harsh orange security light. He looked as miserable as Teddy felt, his shoulders hunched and dark circles under his eyes. There were small marks along his jaw that Teddy could see as he got closer, a handful of little nicks that suggested hasty shaving. Teddy fought back the urge to take Billy’s face between his palms, kiss his lips and then every one of those nicks, promise that he’d do better, next time- he’d _be_ better, as long as Billy let him come home.

Because it hadn’t been all on him. He wasn’t going to go down that road again.

“Hey,” he said instead, when he was standing under the light as well and there was less than a foot of space between them.

“Hey.” Billy searched his face, looking for something, and the uncertainty there was a punch to the gut.

“What’s going on?” Teddy swallowed hard and waited; if he opened his mouth again he was going to say something that he would eventually regret.

“I’m an idiot,” Billy said, and that was not at all what Teddy had been braced for.

_If you would just listen / you know I’m right / how dumb could you be / you need to change, bend, compromise / things could be so good if you would only put some effort in-_

It was an echo, a ghost from the past, and Teddy tried to ignore the voice that whispered there in his mind. This was different, this was Billy. And he was apologizing.

“I’m so sorry,” Billy was saying, and Teddy realized that he was just standing there, hands in his pockets, not responding, letting Billy spill his guts all over the space between them. “You were right. I didn’t think, and I was – I am – scared for you, and for me, what either thing might mean for us, and it all just got away from me somehow. And I want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

Teddy found his voice, but it took him a second, and Billy’s face started to fall. “Yes, I – uh – that is. I’m an idiot too. I said things I didn’t mean. And I’m sorry.” That had a hopeful smile blossoming across Billy’s face and the world was beginning to sit right on its axis again. Billy stepped in close, slid a hand around the back of Teddy’s neck. Their lips met, sweet and tentative, and for a moment that was enough. But it wasn’t right, not yet, and Teddy frowned. “Why here, Bill? What’s with-“ he gestured at the building as he pulled away. “This?”

Billy pulled back and fumbled in his pocket for something, coming up again in a moment with a set of keys. “Right. I should do this, instead of standing here in the cold. This- yeah. Just come in.”

Teddy followed him, through the dark hallway and then up in the elevator until they emerged on a floor that needed another key, and another long dark hall. The exit sign was the only light in the final section as Billy fumbled with the keys, and then he was opening a door into a room Teddy had never seen before.

The ceiling was high and domed, white-tiled and arching high above them. Seats ringed the center in concentric circles, half-tipped back and cushioned. The center of the room was taken up with a vast projector, black lenses studding the bulk of the thing like tumors on some huge black ant. A blanket was laid out on the floor in one of the aisles, a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses sitting beside.

Teddy stared. And then the irritation and anger boiled up inside him again because how did he not see this before? The answers slotted neatly into place and his teeth ached with the tension that was back in his jaw. Billy was watching him, waiting for a reaction, and Teddy shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” Billy asked, all anxiety again. “I thought you would like it. It took me a couple of days to get access, I know; I should have tried to get in sooner.”

"Is this going to be a thing?” Teddy turned and looked at the room, then projector, the picnic blanket; anywhere but at Billy. “Pick a fight and then pull out a grand gesture so all will be forgiven?” He curled his fingers in his pockets, the rub of the fabric against his knuckles grounding and reassuring. “I'm not playing this game, Bill, this push and pull thing of yours.”

Billy’s face had fallen and he was working to get it back under control, his jaw set and lower lip pushing out slightly in a disbelieving pout. “What are you talking about?”

“I need one thing in my life that's _easy_.” The truth exploded out of Teddy in a rush, and he stared at the wall as he said it. He couldn’t look anywhere else. “Uncomplicated. Drama-free. God knows my career won’t be that.”

Billy’s hand was warm on his arm and a pleading note had crept into his voice. “Teddy, just. Just tell me. What is it that you want me to do? Because whatever it is, I'll do it.”

It caught in his throat; he _couldn't_. It was too much, too honest, too fast, when this was the first time they'd spoken in a week and carelessly or otherwise, Billy was going to break everything Teddy had left.   
  
But this was _Billy_ ; Billy who had rocked inside him and become part of his body. Billy, who whispered and murmured and cried out words when he climaxed that Teddy knew he was supposed to ignore. Billy, who had drawn him into an uneasy orbit the moment they had met.

He was so damned tired. It would be easier to turn around, to walk away and go home. Home to his quiet, empty apartment where he could burrow under the covers and pretend.

And in the morning, the bed beside him would still be empty, the sheets cold. 

"You, being there," he said, not meaning to, regretting it the minute it was out.  "No _drama_ , just... you. Having my back. Knowing that you will, without having to think about it. Because I can’t, all this back and forth-“

Teddy’s voice caught. His throat closed, trying to protect him from making a mistake, spilling out too much of his heart’s blood across the floor. “Don’t expect me to react to things like Nate did, because I’m not him. I don't know his half of the script.” And now _he_ was pleading, and looking at Billy, their eyes locked together and there were no walls at all anymore. “I’m not as strong as you think I am. These games will break me." 

Billy sucked in breath, painful and sharp. "Are you breaking up with me?"

That was the last thing he wanted, the exact opposite of what he'd meant to say, and why did words have to be so messy and imprecise? 

Fuck it.

Teddy pulled his hands out of his pockets and slid his fingers into Billy's hair. He stepped in and closed the last space between them, Billy's heat sinking into him and thawing everything that was barren and cold. Teddy kissed him and Billy kissed back, and it was desperate and yearning, prayer and fulfillment all in one, and Teddy poured everything into it that he could never say. Because words had never been invented that could do what touch did.

_Hear me, hear this, the only way I know how to tell you-_

Billy sagged against him and his face was damp and his mouth opened for Teddy and he was hot and wet and everything that was perfect and good.

"So that's a 'no'?" Billy murmured a minute later, his arms locked around Teddy's waist in what felt like a permanent arrangement.

“No- that is, I don’t want to," Teddy replied against Billy's lips. "But you’re going to have to get over your addiction to the dramatic exit.”

"Hey," Billy protested. "As I recall, you were the one who slammed out." Teddy kissed him again, mostly to make him stop talking.

"I thought that was it," Billy continued once his mouth was free again, interspersing the words with feather-light kisses along Teddy's jaw and throat. "That I’d screwed up too badly. Shit, Teddy-” he buried his face in Teddy’s shoulder for a moment and Teddy held on tight. Billy’s hair tickled his nose, and he smelled of citrus and coffee, and the world shifted back into place.

“You screwed up,” he said quietly, “but so did I. I said things I didn’t mean.” And in the name of being honest and not falling back into old patterns, he took a breath and continued with the rest of the truth. “But, also some things that I did.”

Billy nodded and stepped back, not enough to pull away but enough to make eye contact. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

Teddy snorted a little feeling his equilibrium restore. “I have some idea how sorry you are.”

And there was that smile, not the real full one yet, but the slightly sardonic twist that told him he was halfway there. “Thanks, jerk.”

“Any time.” Teddy lunged forward a little and claimed Billy’s mouth, traced the edge of his lips with his tongue. He tasted like coffee and maybe a little like whiskey; had he needed that to get up the courage tonight? God, they were messed up. But maybe it was better to be messed up together.

Billy’s hands rested on his hips, warm and solid, and his fingers caught into Teddy’s belt loops to hold him in place. Kissing him was a homecoming and a drug, and it wasn’t a lack of air that left Teddy lightheaded.

“So just for the record,” Billy said, the first few words just shapes against Teddy’s lips. Billy broke the kiss and pulled away, fingers still tangled at Teddy’s waist.

“Hmm?”

“’Grand gestures,’” Billy clarified, but he had a knowing smile. “You don’t want them.” He looked pointedly at the blanket, the glasses, and the bottle of red wine.

Teddy actually stopped and looked around them for the first time since Billy had led him in here. An actual _planetarium_. What was supposed to have been a romantic evening. Probably the sweetest thing any boyfriend had ever tried to do for him. And his first reaction had been to shit all over it because he was still riding the adrenaline and the worry.

_Damn._

“I don’t want to be in a position where we need them,” Teddy clarified. “I don’t want… _Billy._ ” He gave up trying to explain himself. “How did you know we even had a planetarium on campus? Whose keys are those?”

Billy watched the transformation on his face and grinned in something that looked like triumph. He stepped away and headed back toward the door as he spoke. “Darcy's best friend Jane is doing a post-doc with Erik Selvig, in the physics department.” Billy flipped a switch, keys jingling in his hand, and the world went dark. A moment later and lights around the edges of the dome came on, casting a pale blue glow up into the black void over their heads. Billy was fumbling with a remote control, and the projector lifted and turning into place.

“And Erik runs the planetarium. He uses it for some of his senior astronomy classes. I managed to get completely legitimate permission to use the place for the night. On the provision that my, uh, ‘research assistants’ clean up after themselves.” Stars appeared overhead, the milky way through the middle, and the familiar constellations spinning in out of the void.

"But of course, since you’re not interested, I guess I should turn this off and lock up. We can go get a beer at the faculty club or something,” Billy suggested archly, laughter in his eyes.

Teddy bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his laugh, and he shook his head. “It would be a shame to waste it,” he replied just as archly, “since you already went to all this trouble.” Billy wasn’t fooled in the slightest, but then, that had hardly been the point.

“You’re all heart.” Billy messed with the remote again and the stars went wheeling overhead, the whole effect disorienting. He frowned and muttered something that sounded like ‘ _push three and then six, goddammit, Jane,’_ and then the whole thing tipped sideways and reset itself. The pattern resolved into something achingly familiar, and Teddy stood in the middle of the aisle with his head tipped up and stared into the summer sky in wonder.

Billy’s arms slipped around his waist from behind, the lean line of his body pressed up against Teddy’s back. He tucked his chin in against Teddy’s shoulder, and his breath was warm against Teddy’s neck. “Did I get it right?” he murmured after a moment. “You said upstate but not exactly where, so I had to guess at the coordinates.”

Teddy breathed out and leaned back into Billy’s embrace, laying his arms along Billy’s and lacing their fingers together. “It’s perfect,” he answered, his voice tinged with awe. “I can’t believe you did this. Billy-“

“Come on.” Billy tugged at his hand and pulled him toward the blanket on the floor. He’d stashed a couple of pillows there as well, tucked under one of the chairs, and he tugged Teddy down to the floor with him. “We won’t end up with cricks in the neck this way.”

The stars flickered down at them from the dome, twinkling with a clarity that was impossible to find in the city. Teddy’s mom had had to drive them two hours out of town to find the campgrounds where they could see the sky like this.

Billy poured the wine then lay back on the blanket. He pulled Teddy between his thighs, and Teddy cushioned his head on Billy’s stomach. It was nothing at all like camping but it was everything he needed, held close in Billy’s arms, bracketed by his long legs, the familiar points of light wheeling slowly by overhead.

“Where’s the north star?” Billy asked quietly. “That’s the brightest one, isn’t it?”

“No,” Teddy shook his head, his hair rubbing against the buttons on Billy’s shirt. He was desperately aware of the firm strength of Billy’s stomach underneath his head, the taut, smooth skin that was right there by his mouth, separated only by a thin layer of cotton. “That’s a common mistake.” He kept going, but his voice shook. He wrapped his arm up under Billy’s thigh and rested his hand there, tracing intricate patterns on the denim of his jeans. “It’s Sirius that’s brightest. Unless Jupiter is up.”

“Where’s that?”

“There-“ Teddy pointed and Billy ran a hand down his arm, and asked another question, pulled a story from him and then another, until Teddy’s mouth had gone dry from talking.

The wine was full and round on his tongue, the heat pooling in Teddy’s middle after the first glass. The garnet-red stood out on Billy’s skin even in the near-dark of the starlight, careful dots that took the shape of Teddy’s fingertip as he placed them, one by one.

“Cassiopeia,” Teddy murmured against Billy’s hip, pushing his shirt up further so that the edges wouldn’t brush against the trail of careful drops. Billy’s pants were unbuttoned, pulled down just far enough that Teddy could trace the contour of his hipbone with his tongue, and leave an expanse of pink-flushed skin for Teddy to draw his star maps.

Billy was hard and straining against the fabric of his pants, the dark cotton of his briefs hiding any wetness there. Teddy could smell him, though, when he pressed his open mouth against the bulge and breathed over it, the musky scent of sex and lust searing through his brain and jolting his concentration. “Cepheus.”

He laved his tongue over the drops to clear away his canvas, the stars above still gleaming brilliant in the darkness. Billy shuddered, his hands fisted in the blanket on either side of his body, and tightened his thighs around Teddy’s waist to pull him closer.

Teddy dipped one finger in his wineglass again. He let the drops fall on Billy's skin. “Orion's belt.” Three dots across the flat plane below Billy’s navel, where the trail of sparse dark hair led down to vanish into the waistband of his briefs.

“His sword-“ Teddy  traced between the dots with his tongue and Billy bucked and arched, keening high in his throat and trying to angle his hips to get some more contact. Teddy's hands splayed wide against his hips to hold him down, before he let go with one to drag the elastic down.

Billy gasped when the cool air struck his skin, and Teddy paused for a moment, propped up on one elbow, simply to admire him. Billy was disheveled and wrecked, his clothes pushed up and down and aside. His cock was desperately hard and almost angry-red, bumping against his stomach now that it was free. The tip gleamed wet and got wetter as Teddy watched.

Had it already been a week since he had last had his mouth there, since he had sucked him in and tasted him and run his tongue over every secret nerve ending he could find?

He _wanted_ , and he pressed his palm against the hard and desperate ache of his own erection, rolled his hips against the pressure. He breathed gently over Billy’s skin just to watch him jump, then swallowed him down in one swift motion. Billy arched, he cried out and then keened in desperation, a wordless cry of pure and aching need.

Teddy sucked and licked with the soft, fluttering caresses that he knew drove Billy mad. Billy’s taste filled his mouth and the weight of him pressed down on Teddy’s tongue, thick and full and driving out all other thought. His hips rocked up in little desperate pushes against Teddy’s hands, faster now and faster as Teddy worked his tongue along the vein that pulsed beneath his skin.

Billy came with Teddy’s name on his lips and his fingers buried in Teddy’s hair, his back arched entirely off the blanket and every muscle trembling. He cried out and then he laughed as he collapsed, ran fingers down over Teddy’s neck and shoulders and murmured sweet, ridiculous things that Teddy secretly catalogued and treasured, one by one. 

\--

It was past midnight by the time they got back to Teddy’s apartment, and tumbled, laughing, into bed. It wasn’t until ten the next morning that Teddy remembered to check his messages, the flashing red light so much less important than Billy’s hands and Billy’s mouth and the _hotsweetslick_ of being buried deep inside him.

Tom’s voice was pensive, and he sounded distracted when he spoke. “Call me when you get in,” said the message, tinny and filtered through the speakers of Teddy’s phone. “I found something interesting.” 


	11. April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein meetings are held and some evidence is uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my undying love and gratitude to feebleapb and xandertheundead, who betaed for me. All mistakes and poor decisions are my own.

**April**

**_Midterm Grades Deadline - Friday, April 12_ **

**_Grad/Fac Seminar (Speakers: Drs. Cheung and Heinberg, Professors Emeritus) – Friday, April 28_ **

\--

Saturday mornings, Teddy sighed inwardly, were meant for lazy cuddles and sleepy sex, or waking up slowly over a laptop and a cup of coffee. Not sitting at Tom’s kitchen table in his oddly small and unimpressive apartment, watching him fight with his percolator. Teddy slumped forward over the back of the chair that he was straddling, the wooden rail digging into the bottom of his folded arms.

Billy leaned against the counter, watching his brother, and Teddy was struck – not for the first time – by the strange and half-opposing combination that they made. Tom, usually so well put-together, looked like he had just rolled out of bed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his face unshaven. Billy’s jeans and Henley looked almost formal by comparison, his dark-rimmed glasses pushed back to sit tangled in his hair.

Something beeped and Tom jammed the carafe back into the machine triumphantly, the sounds of brewing finally starting in the background. “Hah,” he muttered darkly, and “take that.”

Billy snorted in response. “You have triumphed, bold warrior.” He followed Tom the couple of steps back to the table and leaned against Teddy. Billy draped his arms over Teddy’s shoulders and kissed the back of his head. Tom gagged at them and Teddy rolled his eyes. “You really need to get a new machine.”

“That one works fine,” Tom shrugged, and dropped a thin file folder on the table. “Most of the time. This is for you.” He tapped the folder and Teddy felt the weight of Tom’s gaze on him when he reached out to take it.

“This is what you wanted me to see?” Teddy stared down at the folder, innocuous in its label-less manila blandness. “What is it?”

“Records from the registrar,” Tom replied, with a hint of a smirk.

Billy stiffened and stood up, leaving just one hand on Teddy’s shoulder. The air was cool against him where Billy’s warmth had been. “How did you get those?”

Tom shook his head and grinned, then pushed away from the table to grab three mugs from the rack behind the sink. “Don’t ask,” he advised, and between the smug look on his face and the vague horror on Billy’s, it seemed like a good idea to listen.

The documents inside were printouts, copies of Angel’s tuition payments. He should close it immediately, not keep reading, but he was curious and panicked and hell; financial records weren’t exactly super-private. Right?

Her first year was straightforward; bills sent out and paid promptly every time. Her second year was different. First term in arrears, notices sent, a flagged note about a cancelled meeting, copies of notes on her file that recommended meetings with student loan advisors… And then two cleared checks, one in late November and one in early March, which together covered her entire debt.

Teddy frowned. “Where did she get that kind of money all at once?”

Billy leaned in over him again, his arms folded across the back of Teddy’s neck. His breath tickled Teddy’s ear, and Teddy reached up to lace his fingers through Billy’s and keep him there. “Maybe student loans came through?” Billy suggested. “They can be really late sometimes.”

Teddy looked from Billy to Tom, the light beginning to dawn. “You think someone paid her for something illegal.” The first check had been right after that meeting in his office, the second the week after he’d been accused. But that was a coincidence; it had to be. There was nothing in his life that lent itself to conspiracies. 

“I don’t think anything, yet.” Tom shook his head, but there was a ring of insincerity in his voice. “You asked me to look into it, I looked. This is what I found. Mommy and daddy cut her off, and she seems to have found a new way of raising tuition funds.” He shrugged, but his eyes were sharp on Teddy when he looked up again. “Maybe she’s working at Wal*Mart.”

‘Somehow I doubt that,” Billy muttered darkly.

“What do I do with this now?” Teddy frowned, closing the folder and pushing it back toward Tom, who ignored it. “I can’t exactly go to legal and say ‘by the way, my boyfriend’s brother hacked-“

“Who said anything about hacking?” Tom interrupted, grinning wickedly.

“' _Somehow_ got access to the registrar’s financial records and found discrepancies.' It would get me in worse hot water, or look like I was trying to deflect attention from myself.”

“So don’t say it like that.” Tom pinned him with a look. “You’re an academic; you’re used to shoveling bullshit every day. Figure out a way to say ‘by the way, you might want to take a look at her tuition payments; something's weird here’ without indicting anyone, and the committee can take it from there.

“First rule of everything, boardroom or bedroom.” The tension in Tom's body shifted; despite the sweats and the stubble, he was the razor-sharp lawyer again. It was easy to see how he could own a boardroom or a courtroom this way. He continued as though the answer were entirely obvious. “Follow the money.”

It made sense, even though Teddy didn’t want it to. His imagination served up an image of Angel, angry, tired, broke, abandoned by her parents, and lashing out at a teacher who was ‘letting’ her fail. If she’d been involved in something sketchy at the same time- she must have been devastated when it all came crashing down.

It made him feel sorrier for her than he had before. And angrier at himself for not seeing the problems earlier in the year. Maybe if he’d reached out to her, suggested matching her up with someone at the tutoring centre…

He was still ruminating on the what-ifs and could’ves by the time they were heading for the door. Billy was behind Teddy as he grabbed for his coat, and then he wasn’t, his attention caught by something on the floor. He bent over and when he straightened, he was holding panties. Blue lace panties, with a little bow-thing in the front.

Billy dangled them off one finger and held them out toward Tom like they were venomous. “Started walking on the wild side?” he cracked. Teddy’s brain shut down entirely at that mental image and all of the _nope_ that it engendered.

Tom snagged them off of Billy's finger and tucked them into a pocket. "Darcy was over." His expression was entirely blank, a wall slamming down behind his eyes so fast that Teddy would have missed the shift entirely if he hadn’t happened to be watching.

Billy was oblivious, turning to grab his jacket from the hook and sling it over his shoulders. "Didn't think they looked like your size. So that's still a thing?" he asked.

Tom’s shoulders were tight, got tighter as Billy spoke, but he made a joke of it. "What would you know about women’s underwear?" He leaned against the wall, folding his arms firmly in front of him. “Scratch that;” his voice stayed steady, despite the total shift in his body language. It was a neat trick. “I never want to know that answer.”

Tommy was so tense he was all but vibrating; time for a subject change. “Thanks for everything, Tom,” Teddy jumped in, and Tom seemed to relax a little. Relief? “I really appreciate the help. I’m going to figure out some way to use this.”

“Just keep my name out of it,” Tom replied, and he sounded like his usual self again, smug and dismissive. “You were never here.”

\--

**Ted Altman:** Everything okay?

**Tom Shepherd:** Yeah. I’m amazing. Why?

**Ted Altman:** You seemed off this morning; wondered if something was wrong.

**Tom Shepherd:** Whatever Oprah moment you’re having over there, keep it to yourself. I don’t do ‘hugging it out.’

**Ted Altman:** Sometimes I find it hard to believe that you and Billy are related.

**Tom Shepherd:** You and me both.

\--

“I don’t understand what’s taking so long,” Teddy confessed. He frowned at the cup of coffee cooling on the little café table in front of him, rather than at the sympathetic face of Sam Wilson sitting on the other side. “I thought the investigators had thirty days to make a decision.”

“They do, technically,” Sam replied. He looked way more at ease than Teddy felt, sitting with one arm looped over the back of his chair. The high-pitched buzz of noise in the library atrium made it hard for Teddy to think clearly, like white noise being pumped into the back of his brain. This was supposed to be a casual meeting to touch base, but it was hard to see anything about this process as ‘casual.’ “But when they’re waiting on something – another interview, or some paperwork - they can file for an extension. It’s standard procedure.”

Jesus; as if the reams of documents he’d had to submit weren’t enough. “What more could they possibly need?” Teddy asked, and it was more a rhetorical question than anything else.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Sam leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table. The nonchalant look fell away, and there was an intensity in the way he frowned at Teddy that made him really grateful that Sam was on his side. “Is there anything you haven’t told us about this mess? Anything you’ve been keeping from Carol, or, hell, from _me_?”

Teddy hesitated for a moment before shaking his head slowly. Except; that wasn’t the case, was it?

He paused. Then he nodded. “Yeah,” Teddy confessed, and Sam frowned. He wasn’t as good at the ‘son, I’m seriously disappointed in you’ face as Steve was, but he did a pretty good imitation. Teddy felt about six inches tall. “But not about Angel, or anything to do with the meeting in my office.”

Now what? He couldn’t _lie_ to Sam, but Tom had been very clear about keeping his name out of things. To expose him as a source for information, when he hadn’t even figured out how to get the records to legal in the first place –

“A friend,” he replied lamely, and one of Sam’s dark eyebrows went up. “Did some checking for me, and found some weird irregularities in Angel’s records at the registrar. I have copies, but I hadn’t made up my mind what to do with them. I don’t want anyone else getting in trouble because they tried to help me.” The papers were burning a hole in his bag. He could practically feel the weight of them pressing against his leg, the incessant thumping of a tell-tale heart.

Weirdly, Sam relaxed. “Do you have them here?”

“Yeah.” Teddy fumbled with the clasp on his bag and stuck the folder into Sam’s hand. There was nothing printed on it that would lead back to Tom, he was sure enough of that. “You don’t look surprised,” he found the need to say a second later, when Sam had flipped through the printouts.

“I’m not,” Sam grinned at him, a flash of a bright smile that had the opposite effect of what he’d probably intended. “Someone sent these to Jasper, anonymously. I had coffee with him yesterday and he asked me about it, and I couldn’t give him a straight answer.”

He fixed Teddy with another look, this one laced with more kindness than before. “Whatever you know, I have to know. I can’t help you without having all the information.”

“That’s everything so far,” Teddy replied, and the whole room seemed to brighten as Sam’s approval – well, maybe not _approval_ , but certainly not condemnation – made itself felt.  

“I can’t help thinking that we could sort all of this out with a meeting,” Teddy continued, knowing even as he spoke that it was wishful thinking. “Just, you, me and Sitwell, Angel and whoever she has representing her – if it’s money that was driving her, if she’s in trouble somehow, then maybe there’s a way to help. And if she doesn’t feel so backed into a corner, she could be convinced to recant her accusations.”

“She’s worked herself into a corner now,” Sam tapped the file thoughtfully on the edge of the table, then tucked it into his own bag. “But if it looks like she’s going to lose and you offer not to press charges for false accusations, a decent person might be convinced to step up.” He finished the coffee sitting in front of him and set the cup down on the table, briefly lost in thought.

When Sam spoke again, it was with a finger crooked over his chin and a pensive expression. “Honest question time, Ted, and I can’t tell you why I’m asking. Technically, even _I_ don’t know about this. But is there anyone who might have it out for you?”

“Other than Angel? I had one other kid fail, but he dropped out entirely,” Teddy replied, a little more flippantly than he might otherwise have done. Have it out for _him_? He tried his best to be kind, and he seemed to manage it more often than not. He was usually pretty good at making people like him. Or at least feel comfortable around him.

Mind you, there was always Nate…

“Someone with money,” Sam clarified, and that knocked Nate off the list. He was still couch-surfing and apartment hunting. People didn’t do that sort of thing unless they had to. Besides; it wasn’t like he and Billy had had the kind of lifestyle that suggested lots of income.

“No.” Teddy dismissed the idea. “Not that I can think of. I had a shitty boyfriend in undergrad, but we haven’t spoken in years.” Greg’s voice in the back of his head once in a while didn’t count. Greg could be dead for all Teddy knew, and this kind of thing wasn’t his style at all. He’d always preferred the more direct and personal approach to screwing with people. “Why?”

“Didn’t I just say that I couldn’t tell you anything?” Sam shook his head and grabbed for his jacket. “At least not yet. It may turn out to be nothing. For now, try and relax,” he advised. “Jasper will get in touch when they’re ready to convene the committee. For now the best thing you can do is try not to let it affect you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Teddy grumbled, slumping in his chair. The wire frame dug into his backside, and even the sunlight filtering down through the skylight and the leaves of the trees in their carefully-placed pots couldn’t lift his mood.

Sam’s warm and reassuring grip on his shoulder as he passed did help, a little. “What do you want me to say? ‘Sorry, kid, you're screwed’?" Teddy’s head jerked up at that, but Sam was all sympathy and Teddy managed a half-smile back.

“Everybody makes mistakes, Ted.” Sam stayed where he was, hand on Teddy’s shoulder, his grounding strength reassuring and affirming all at once. “And everyone does things they’re not proud of. In your case? The only mistake you made was assuming that everyone has other people’s best interests at heart. There are a lot of folks out there desperate enough to do some pretty awful things, in the name of self-preservation. It doesn’t make them evil, but it does make them dangerous.” That sounded like something more personal to Sam than anything Teddy had expected to hear, but he couldn’t fathom what it might be.

Sam patted him on the shoulder, then let go. “We’ll get you through this. And thank your ‘friend’ for me. I’ll be in touch.”

Teddy waited until the main doors had closed behind Sam before he pulled out his phone and typed in a hasty text.

**Ted Altman** : did you send those records to Sitwell?

**Tom Shepherd:** did *you* know that cell phone records and text transcripts can be subpoenaed in the case of a criminal trial?

**Ted Altman:** you make me nuts.

**Tom Shepherd:** just remember who’s using up billable hours to save your ass.

\--

**[submit]**

For once, the computer actually did what it was supposed to. Teddy sighed and flopped in his chair as his midterm grades uploaded themselves, the hourglass spinning happily on the screen. He could cross that off his to-do list, at least, and then he could have five minutes to freak out about the lack of news from legal before he moved on to the next. Portioning out the anxiety helped. Sorta.

Hearing back from Sam or Carol – or even Sitwell at this point, he wasn’t picky – would be better.

The knock at the door made him jump; Billy coming in made him smile.

“Hey, you.” Teddy’s mood lifted immediately, and he pushed his chair away from his desk to give Billy room. He slid in between the desk and Teddy’s knees, the way he always did, and shoved a couple of books aside so that he could perch on the edge.

“Hey, yourself.” Billy leaned in and brushed a kiss against Teddy’s lips, gentle and sweet, and Teddy smiled against his mouth. The twisted-up feeling he’d been sitting with all day began to untangle itself inside. Except that Billy wasn’t responding the way he usually did, and he pulled back from the kiss before Teddy expected it.

_Now what?_

Billy had an envelope in his hand, and he held it out to Teddy, a worry line forming between his eyebrows. His thumbnail was ragged at the edge from being chewed. Teddy ran a hand over Billy’s knee gently before reaching out to take it. “What’s this?” The envelope had been opened, had a return address from a medical clinic stamped in blue on the front.

“Test results,” Billy replied, his knee jiggling up and down and the frown line staying where it was. Teddy slid the paper free and unfolded it. This could really only be about one thing, unless Billy had been struck with some kind of odd cancer and this was his way of telling Teddy that he had only six months to live…

He’d been there before.

He took a breath, held it, and looked.

**[HIV Status: Negative]** read the line across the top, stamped in bold letters beside Billy’s name and insurance number.

Teddy’s chest constricted, then relaxed, then tightened again in a warmer way. The test was dated a month ago, the paper creased and marked from where it had been opened and refolded a couple of times. He tucked it back into the envelope carefully while he tried to decide what he really wanted to ask.

“You got tested?” He started with the obvious, the known quantity.

“Back in March,” Billy relaxed visibly when Teddy smiled. Teddy reached out with one thumb to smooth the furrow that had appeared between Billy’s brows. His skin was soft and warm, even there, and Teddy was overcome with the urge to scoot forward and bury his face in Billy’s chest, and let himself be held for a while.

“The last time Nate and I were together was right at the beginning of December, so that was three months. And I was going to tell you, but then… everything…” he gestured vaguely in the air. There was that bubbling feeling of regret and guilt and time wasted. “I wasn’t sure if this was a conversation that we were going to get to have.” He finished quietly, and Teddy grabbed for his hand. Billy squeezed his fingers.

“And now?” Teddy hesitated, wanting to hear it. This thing between them was so much stronger now, in some ways, and in others still so damned fragile. There wasn’t any room at all for assumptions, or misunderstandings; not while the scars were still fresh.

“With everything that’s going on, I thought – we’re good again,” Billy replied. He picked up a paper clip and twisted it open, folded it back on itself. The nervous bounce was back, shaking his knee, and Teddy flattened his palm out on top and pressed down a little to stop him. “I figured we were ready to talk about it. And that you could use some good news right now.” Billy continued, flashing him a grin that still flickered with hesitation. “I was pretty sure Nate hadn't screwed around, but better safe than, well. You know."

He was waiting for Teddy to say something, the paper clip turning into a spiral between his fingers.

“I'm negative, just for the record,” Teddy said, and Billy’s nervous movements stilled. “I got tested about a year and a half ago.” Billy’s brows furrowed again, puzzled, and Teddy was going to have to explain, and _ugh._ Sometimes being a grownup stunk. “There was this guy; I met him in a club," he confessed, his ears getting warm with embarrassment at the memory.

"You picked up a random?" Billy feigned shock. "Mr. Play It Safe?"

“It’s like my life in perfect microcosm,” Teddy confessed ruefully. “The one time I ever say ‘to hell with it’ and have a one-night stand, the stupid condom breaks. But everything turned out okay. And it's only been you since." He tilted his head up to meet Billy's eyes, and fell into the warmth and affection there.

( _Dare he assume what hadn't yet been properly said? No. Words were what mattered to Billy and he hadn’t gone there yet._ )

Billy moistened his lips, swallowed, then forged ahead. "So we could ditch the condoms."

"-If you want to," Teddy replied, the tumbled mess of words betraying his eagerness, a glow starting somewhere in the middle of his chest.

“I don’t have anything else, either-“ Billy spoke overtop before he even finished, their words jumbling together in a mess of sound.  “If you think we're ready-"

"-If you trust me?"

"Yeah." Billy replied, his hand finding Teddy's again and squeezing tightly. "I do. Do you trust _me_?"

There was a moment where he almost hesitated, the memory of Nate with the rose,  Nate outside the apartment building with a bag, the ugly words he'd thrown in Billy's face -

\- and then there was Billy. Who had been the one to come to him with his proof, who had gone out of his way to make sure Teddy knew he'd be safe, who had never lied to him even when the answers hadn't been what Teddy had wanted to hear.

"Yeah," Teddy answered, and he was giddy with it. “I do.”

"It means you're going to have to give up your wild partying ways," Billy teased, the solemn nod and frown contradicted by the gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah, me and the remote. Fun times.” The impact of it hit him all at once, and Teddy let out a soft breath. Anticipation boiled up in his blood and he couldn’t drag his eyes away from Billy’s hands, his mouth, his legs- "Holy _shit_ , Bill."

"So, uh. You busy tonight?"

"Not anymore."

"How do you - I mean, what would you prefer-?"

The question wasn't one he'd expected, and oh the possibilities... To sink into Billy with nothing in between them but the slick of lube, to feel him tight around Teddy's cock, skin on skin-

\- or on the other hand, to let Billy inside, just him, just _them_ , and the easy slide of their bodies together. To be filled up, broken open, free to enjoy being _taken_ with none of the hindbrain-stress about latex breaking or slipping-

He was a greedy, selfish person.

"Why choose when we can flip?" Teddy suggested, with a wicked grin. He trailed his fingers along Billy's inseam, scraped the edge of his thumbnail against the ridge of fabric.

"Hng," Billy said. His eyes glazed over for a moment, his pupils wide. He shifted where he sat, the flush on his cheeks and the bulge beginning in his slacks confirming where his mind had gone. "You are a bad man, and you should feel bad." He let out a ragged breath and stabbed at Teddy's chest with his finger. "How the hell am I going to concentrate on my afternoon lectures now?"

He was less than six inches away, and if Teddy leaned forward just a little, he could get his hands and mouth on Billy right _now_ \- Only the thought of Carol's reaction if he got caught _actually_ screwing around in his office stopped him in his tracks. Teddy grinned instead. "And whose fault is that, for starting this conversation at work in the middle of the day?"

Billy hung his head, looking more embarrassed than Teddy had expected. "Escape route," he said slowly, reluctance in his confession. "In case things went wrong."

Teddy did lean forward then, but only to cup Billy's face in his hands. He smoothed his thumbs over Billy's cheekbones, his temples, and the sharp edges of his jaw, before pressing his lips softly against Billy's. He tasted like coffee, that faintly bitter flavor overlaying everything that was him, so utterly, perfectly familiar and warm.

Teddy let himself sink into the kiss, Billy's hands sliding up over his chest and his tongue tasting Teddy's mouth. Teddy pulled away, finally, pressed his forehead gently against Billy's to extend the contact. "You'll never need that with me." he promised, and Billy's kiss in return was all the answer that he needed.

-

After what had been easily the longest afternoon of his life, Teddy let the door of Billy’s apartment swing closed behind them. He flipped the lock and it fell to with a gentle click. The hall light flicked on ahead of him, Billy already dropping his bag and coat in the corner and turning back to take his hand.

They stumbled into the bedroom that way, hands laced together and lips and tongues sliding over each other. Their kisses started tender, gentle brushes of Teddy’s lips against Billy’s ear, his jaw; the spot at the base of his neck that made him shudder and gasp at the touch of teeth.

Billy’s hands slid under the hem of Teddy’s shirt, his nails scraping against the skin of Teddy’s back. Billy groaned, long and low, and his hips hitched up urgently against Teddy’s. He made short work of Teddy’s buttons, pushed his shirt down off his shoulders and mouthed down the skin he’d bared. He dropped to his knees and fumbled with Teddy’s belt, and Teddy fisted his hands in Billy’s hair.

Billy’s mouth was slick and hot and everything amazing, his tongue drawing circles under the ridge of Teddy’s glans, little teasing touches that slammed along every nerve ending he owned. Teddy fought the urge to thrust deep, to hold Billy’s head in place and take him just like this, plunge again and again between those wet, red lips.

“Holy fuck, _Bill,_ ” he ground out, his hips twitching despite himself, Billy’s hands holding him steady while he mouthed at Teddy’s balls. “Stop, god, you have to stop, or this will be over _really_ quickly.”

Billy pulled off with a slick pop and a short, triumphant laugh. He stood slowly, pressing kisses to Teddy’s thighs, the curve of his hip, his lowest rib. Teddy grabbed him and kissed him, thrust his tongue in like he hadn’t done with his cock; tasted his pre-come, salt and sweet, on Billy’s lips. “You’re evil,” Teddy laughed, breathless, when he could finally let go.

“Like you didn’t already know,” Billy kissed him again. Teddy pulled his shirt off over his head and anything else he might have said was muffled in the fabric. Pants next, and Teddy pushed him toward the bed, Billy catching the edge of the mattress with his knees before he fell backward. He grabbed Teddy’s hand and pulled him down with him, the pair landing in a tangle of limbs and naked skin.

Billy’s cock was furiously hard against his hip and Teddy rocked against him, the friction on his own erection gorgeous, and beautiful, and Billy’s skin was the best thing _ever in the world_.

He tasted him, ran his tongue down along Billy’s body, and pinned his hands over his head so that he could nuzzle at the ridiculously soft skin on the underside of Billy’s arm. The muscle popped there when he held him like this, tight and firm. He bit it and sucked at the spot, hoped it would be enough to leave at least a little mark

“Ow, Teddy!” Billy convulsed and pulled his hands down, laughing and gasping at the same time as he was riding up into Teddy’s other hand, the head of his cock slick with pre-come.

Teddy swiped his thumb through the wetness and Billy moaned. “Sorry,” Teddy mumbled into Billy’s shoulder, not meaning a word. His knees dug into the soft cotton of the bedcovers as he worked his hand in a steady pace. Billy thrust up into him and gasped again, then pushed him away. Teddy went, letting go, conscious suddenly of the prickling sheen of sweat along his skin, the desperate ache in his cock as it jutted up against his stomach.

“I want you,” Billy said clearly, arching his back where he lay. Teddy scrambled for the lube – bedside table, drawer… He pulled it too far open in his haste and the whole damn thing dumped on the floor, lube and a couple of foil-wrapped condoms and a handful of pocket change-

“Dammit,” Teddy cursed, but Billy was laughing and stroking his arms soothingly, and it only took a moment before he found the half-empty bottle and slicked his fingers, wet and cool.

He knelt between Billy’s thighs and drank in the sight of him. He was spread out underneath Teddy and he bit at his bottom lip, already kiss-bruised and dark. Billy pulled up his legs, draped one over Teddy’s arm and the other up around his waist. Teddy kissed him, deep and desperate, and Billy kissed back with tenderness. Teddy sank down to meet him.

One finger, then two. This was nothing new, nothing they hadn’t done a dozen times before, Billy’s arms locked around Teddy’s shoulders and his leg around his waist, urging him forward, deeper, _more._

This, though, this _was_ new, because when Teddy slipped his fingers out he didn’t reach for one of the packages on the floor. He pressed the head of his cock against Billy’s entrance, shiny-slick and ready, and then he paused. “Billy,” he groaned, fighting against the instinct to _push_ and _claim_ \- “Are you sure? Absolutely, completely sure?”

Billy sucked in breath and opened his eyes, those gorgeous dark brown eyes that held the world.

“Teddy,” he said slowly and clearly, “if you don’t get in me right the fuck now, I’m going to delete all of your Call of Duty save files. And your Steam account.”

“Bastard,” Teddy laughed, he couldn’t help it, and he rolled his hips forward even as he laughed, and Billy was laughing with him and then he was _gasping_ , and everything else vanished beyond the sensation of his body. He was hot and so amazingly tight; Teddy pulled back a little, lube-slick, then forward again, and everything was liquid fire and _skin_. Billy’s cock was rigid between their stomachs, and he only flagged a little when Teddy slid inside.

Waiting for Billy to adjust and loosen for him was the most exquisite torture that Teddy could even begin to imagine, and the universe expanded and contracted in upon itself before he felt Billy relax incrementally. He was still snug around Teddy’s cock, muscle and strength, and the friction was utterly different this way.  

“Teddy, _fuck_ ,” Billy gasped out as he thrust, gently at first and then faster as they found their rhythm. This was easy, so easy between them; Teddy gasped as Billy pulled himself up on his shoulders for leverage, rocked his hips down and kissed the noises away from Teddy’s mouth.

It was too much, too fast, the simmering heat he’d been trying to ignore all afternoon spreading through Teddy’s body as he pushed into Billy, deep and sure. Billy had his hand between them, stroking himself in time with Teddy’s thrusts, and the sight of his fist around himself shouldn’t have been as insanely erotic as it was. Teddy knew that warning sign, felt the tension coil up so perfectly deep inside at the base of his spine, his balls-

“Shit, stop,” he gasped again. Billy threw back his head and groaned, but he stopped moving. Teddy’s hips hitched in again despite himself, and his arms trembled from holding himself up. He gulped in air, tried to think of something, anything that would keep the end at bay. Football scores, student grades, Lomonosov’s theories of the transit of Venus-

“Too good,” he muttered, breathless. He nuzzled at Billy’s jaw and his neck. “You feel so good, Billy; I can’t-“

“If you want to,” Billy said, flushed halfway down his chest, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

“No,” Teddy shook his head and started to pull back. Billy whimpered as he slid out, and he laid apologetic kisses all down the line of Billy’s body. “I want to come with you inside me,” he managed to say, somewhere down around Billy’s hip. Billy’s cock jerked, leaving a line of pre-come glistening between the head and his stomach.

“You can’t just go saying things like that,” Billy said, his eyes glazed and a little feverish. “That’s not _fair_.” But he untangled his legs from Teddy’s and breathed deeply as Teddy collapsed down beside him.

Teddy leaned over and kissed him, their bodies not touching for a moment. The air in the bedroom was cold against his cock where Billy had been nothing but fire. Billy’s fingers skated lightly down the underside, along the vein and down between his balls, and they were already pulling up tight and hard against his body.  “Please, Billy,” Teddy whimpered, a description he’d vehemently deny, but the sound was safe, here. “I need –“

“I know.” Billy sat up on his knees, his gorgeous cock flushed angry and rock-hard, gleaming wet. Teddy wanted him; wanted to suck him and stroke him, and more than anything else wanted to be broken apart on him, inch by inch. Billy pulled Teddy up as well, until they were on their knees facing each other.

After a moment’s fumble with the lube bottle, there was a slick finger circling his hole, pressing inside. Teddy rocked against it, fucked himself down on Billy’s hand with desperation. He was empty and needy and it wasn’t enough, not even once Billy added a second finger, then a third. “ _Billy_ -“

“Come here,” Billy’s fingers slid out of him and his hand was sticky on Teddy’s shoulder when he turned him around. Teddy’s back was pressed against Billy’s front, Billy’s knees sliding between his thighs to spread him open just that little bit more. Billy’s chin dug into his shoulder and his arm wrapped tight around Teddy’s chest to hold him steady, and then yes – god, yes – Billy was sliding deep inside him, Teddy’s body opening and beyond ready for the intrusion.

He took a deep breath as Billy pressed in; he arched his back and Billy bottomed out inside him. Billy shifted, rocked into him gently at first, then harder, filling and stretching him open until he was nothing but sensation.

It was difficult to get leverage like this, both of Billy’s arms wrapped around him now, but the shallow strokes were teasing without pain, and Billy was holding him close, the smell of sex and sweat surrounding them. Teddy shifted his hips and rolled back to meet Billy’s thrusts, and _there_ the angle was, and _there-_

Billy thrust again, finding the same spot, and Teddy shouted, stars behind his eyes and lightning blasting through his limbs.

His cock was so sore, throbbing and begging for contact, and Teddy grabbed for it, gave a tentative stroke. The relief and wave of pleasure was immediate, on top of everything else, and he rocked desperately, thrusting up into his own hand and back onto Billy’s cock. Billy laced his fingers through Teddy’s and closed their hands around his cock together. _So close-_

“Fuck, Teddy, look at us.” Billy’s voice was halting and harsh in his ear and it took Teddy a second to have the motivation to open his eyes. From this angle they were visible in the mirror on the wall. Billy thrust shallowly into him from behind, his neck and chest flushed red. Teddy knelt, wild and debauched, his knees spread wide and the head of his cock vanishing between their clasped fingers as they stroked. Billy bit into his shoulder and tightened his fingers around Teddy’s hand and dick, his thumb scraping along the underside of the ridge.

Teddy came and he saw himself coming in the mirror, his back curving and his head falling back, his mouth open. _Fuck!_ His orgasm ripped through him, molten lava exploding along his spine and out through his balls and his cock and he was shooting white over Billy’s hand and over his own and the image of it, of _them_ , seared itself onto his brain forever.

Billy followed a moment later, with a few more thrusts deep into Teddy’s body that half-lifted them off their knees. His nails sunk into Teddy’s skin, the brief flashes of pain vanishing in the waves of pleasure that were still crashing over him. Billy went entirely rigid, shouted his name, and he _felt_ Billy come, a wetness remaining when he softened and pulled away.

They collapsed onto the bed together, their arms and legs tangling; Billy pillowed his head on Teddy’s chest. Teddy sagged down into the exhaustion, felt every limb start to deaden and relax, and he nuzzled into Billy’s hair with a deep sigh of sweaty satisfaction.

For a minute or two.

“Hang on,” Teddy grumbled and sat up, despite Billy’s clutching protests. “I need to go clean up. That’s one thing condoms are good for; mess reduction.”

“But not much else,” Billy muttered, only letting go once Teddy peeled his fingers off Teddy’s thigh.

He was back a few minutes later with a washcloth for Billy, who had kicked the comforter down to the foot of the bed. Teddy curled up beside him, wrapped his arms around him and breathed him in deeply. Billy clicked off the light and they lay there, Billy’s breathing slowing against Teddy’s chest as they curled together.

Teddy was on the edge of sleep when Billy spoke, his voice dusky and low with exhaustion.

“I would move to Iowa for you, you know.”

Teddy laughed quietly, a soft chuff of breath. “What, and live next to all those cows?”

“Moo,” Billy said. He pressed his back into Teddy’s chest and pulled Teddy’s arms closer around himself.

“Go to sleep, Bill.” Teddy murmured, and he kissed the back of Billy’s head with reverence. And in the dark, he smiled.  

\--

There was a large box sitting in the history department office. Teddy frowned at it. It was too small to be an office chair, thankfully. The mystery was partially solved when Pepper greeted him with a frazzled nod and pushed the box into the office proper. Teddy followed her, his hand full of flyers and bulletins, driven by sheer curiosity.

Darcy was at her desk and she closed out of a couple of program windows hurriedly when Pepper and Teddy entered. “Morning, Teddy,” she smiled, a little more subdued than usual, before spotting the box. “Oh good; is that our restock?”

“I did a CostCo run this weekend.” Pepper crouched, sky-high heels and pencil skirt notwithstanding, and ran a boxcutter down the tape holding it closed. There had to be at least fifty boxes of tissues in the carton, stacked tightly together in a brick.

Darcy didn’t seem at all surprised. “Awesome.” She grabbed a couple and stacked them in her bottom drawer, while Pepper started filling the cabinet below the printer that normally held reams of paper. “You gonna stand there, Teddy, or be useful?” Darcy poked him and he bent to help them unpack.

“So should I ask?” He ventured after a second, standing there with boxes of tissues in each hand while Pepper emptied another cabinet.

Pepper answered without turning. “Thesis defense season.”

Teddy snorted.

“Oh, how quickly we forget,” Darcy chided him, waving a finger. “I bet it wasn’t that long ago that you were a nervous wreck in front of your committee, buster. And who do you think picks up all the pieces when you guys are done with your poor students? Darcy and Pepper’s one-stop student-counseling and chocolate shoppe, that’s who.”

“Darce-“ Teddy started to ask, because at this angle she had dark circles under her eyes that even makeup hadn’t quite managed to hide. “Is everything-“

“Has anyone seen my PhD student?” Kate interrupted, her long hair pulled back and a frown on her face. “Short, blonde, answers to ‘hey, kid?’ I think I misplaced her.” She looked at Teddy, holding the tissues, then down at the half-empty box on the floor and the growing pyramid on Pepper’s desk. “Jeez; is it that time of year again already?”

“Oh my god, I hate this campus!” Cassie burst in not far behind Kate. Her backpack was hanging open and she had papers and books crammed under her arm, a pencil tucked into her ponytail and a look of utter exasperation on her face.

“There she is,” Teddy pointed out helpfully, and Kate scowled.

“What happened?” Pepper frowned them all down like a class of recalcitrant kindergarten kids, and Cassie flopped down onto the edge of Pepper’s desk with a sigh.

“I was teaching, up in the Ross building? And that stupid new system went _berserk._ Some kid was smoking up in the bathroom on the third floor, and the computer decided that it represented an ‘environmental hazard.’ Do you know what that building does with environmental hazards?” She was working herself up, her voice rising, and she dragged one hand through her hair. “It locks down.”

“Oh no,” Kate breathed out, half in a laugh.

“Oh yes. All doors and windows sealed, total shutdown mode. And Johnson-fricking-Controls is based on the west coast, so it’s like, five am there. It took Facilities half an hour to figure out how to make the ‘quarantine’ setting stand down.”

“So much for new technology,” Teddy replied, half-amazed. “Whiteboards and markers may be old-school, but at least they can’t hold you hostage.”

His phone buzzed at him as Pepper started to reply, and Teddy slipped out of the office to answer. It was Sam’s voice at the other end, controlled and calm and cool.

“Are you somewhere where you can check your calendar?”

So much for lunch; Teddy’s gut was so clenched and tangled up from those words alone that he was sure he was never going to be able to eat again. “No, but I can be in a couple of minutes,” he hedged, looking down the hall toward his office door.

“Good. Clear an hour this afternoon, if you can. Legal wants a meeting.”

The sword of Damocles was a real thing, and it was hanging over Teddy’s head at that exact moment. He swore he could feel it, twisting and turning on a single thread, the point brushing against the ends of his hair.

He looked up, feeling like an idiot for doing so.

There was nothing there but the ceiling. His overwhelming sense of dread didn’t waver.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied instead, his own voice sounding shaky in his ears. “I’ll do that. I’m free from three on.”

“I’ll email you the building and room.” And then the line went dead.

_Fuck_.

\--

The room turned out to be a whole lot less impressive than Teddy had been expecting.

Shouldn’t important things happen in important rooms, places that gave at least a minimal sense of gravitas to the destruction or redemption of a person? Thank god he’d only had a couple of hours to work himself up for it. He’d already been bracing for a tribunal across a long head table, with impassive faces staring down at him from behind name card, the university’s great seal and portraits of long-dead deans and chancellors judging him from portraits in the walls.

The little meeting room with the round table and plastic chairs hardly qualified as anything exciting. Jasper Sitwell and Sam Wilson were at the table with him, chatting companionably about their weekend plans; Teddy sipped from the cup of water in front of him and tried to pay attention.

“So this should be quick, Ted,” Sitwell began, and Teddy let out a breath.

“This isn’t the decision, then?” It couldn’t be, or Carol would be there as well, wouldn’t she?

“Not yet, I’m afraid.” He didn’t look particularly _afraid_ , Teddy decided with more than a hint of uncharitable bitterness. “But it shouldn’t be much longer, if everything goes the way I expect it to. I just need to check something with you first.”

Teddy looked at Sam, and Sam simply nodded. Okay. It was going to be okay. Whatever this was.

Sitwell pulled some photographs out of his briefcase and set them down on the table in front of him. Teddy picked them up and squinted at them before he realized what he was looking at.

The pictures were grainy, blown up from what seemed to be a security camera. The room in the pictures was some kind of store – a jewelry store, Teddy realized, the glass display cases of rings and bracelets at an odd angle to the lens.

A man was visible at the counter, talking to the jeweler. The black and white image made some details hard to work out, but the dark hair, the shape of his face – that, Teddy recognized.

“You know this man,” Sam prompted, and Teddy nodded. His mouth was dry and he took a sip of water, the cup cool and smooth between his fingers.

“Yeah. That’s Nate Richards. He’s Bill’s – he’s my boyfriend’s ex.”

Why the hell did they have photographs of Nate in a jewelry store? Teddy flipped through the three pictures but they were all pretty much the same, the jeweler’s head blocking out part of the counter and whatever it was the pair of them were discussing.

Sitwell nodded. He didn’t write anything down. “Is there any particular reason he might want to discredit you?”

“He, uh.” Teddy took another deep breath, forced his shoulders down. _Control._ “He blames me for their breakup last fall. It’s not true – not the way he thinks it is – but he was pretty mad at both of us.” He looked up at Sitwell sharply. “Where are these pictures from? How did you get them?”

Sitwell grimaced, an expression that seemed weirdly close to having a smile inside. “They were turned in as part of our investigation. By an anonymous source.”

Sam smirked, but Sitwell pointedly ignored him and kept talking. “They’re from a jewelry store in midtown. We followed up, of course, and according to the owner, Mr. Richards bought a bracelet identical to the one that Miss Salvadore claims broke during your altercation.”

Sam leaned in. “By itself, it proves nothing. None of this contradicts Angel's testimony directly. But all together, it's starting to paint one hell of a picture.”

“As far as you know, Ted,” Sitwell interrupted, and Sam stopped talking. “Is there any connection between Mr. Richards and Miss Salvadore?”

“No,” Teddy began, and then he stopped. How could they possibly? Nate wasn’t a student or an instructor, but-

“But Nate was in and out of the department offices all the time last semester,” he began again, slowly. Could Nate really hate him that much?

A memory rose up; the department hallway, Teddy’s fists clenched, Nate’s low hiss and the loathing in his eyes turning his handsome face utterly sinister.

_Don’t get too comfortable here, Altman. It’ll be over before you can blink._

Blood roared in Teddy’s ears, the crashing of waves upon the shore, the white noise buzzing and threatening to deafen him.

“He threatened me,” Teddy said, his voice distant in his own ears. “Back in November. He thought I was hitting on Bill. He told me not to get used to this place.” _Now_ Sitwell was writing things down, and Sam sat back in his chair with folded arms. “I didn’t think it had anything to do with Angel,” Ted told Sam, this time; “it was a week, maybe, before she came to my office. You don’t think-”

Sam frowned. “I don’t know what to think, kid, except that you have quite the knack for getting yourself on the wrong side of some interesting people.”  

Sitwell covered both sides of the page in his little notebook before he capped his pen abruptly and stood, tugging his black suit jacket back into position. “Thanks for your time, Ted, Sam.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to be somewhere now, but we’ve arranged a meeting with Miss Salvadore and her lawyers for Monday afternoon at two. You’ll make yourself available?”

Teddy nodded, oblivious to his actual schedule. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Because if they could prove any of it, if Angel didn’t deny it, if Nate really had set wheels in motion to screw up his _life_ because of a rivalry that hadn’t turned out to be that much of a fiction after all-

God, _Billy_. How was he going to begin to explain any of this to Billy?

“Good,” Sitwell’s response was brisk, but the nod he gave to Teddy was as friendly as he had ever been. “We’ll see you then.”

\--

**Ted Altman:** Was that all real?

**Tom Shepherd:** I only report the news, I don’t make it.

**Ted Altman:** Thank you. However you did it, I don’t care. Just… thank you.

**Tom Shepherd:** You owe me.

**Ted Altman:** Am I going to regret this?

**Tom Shepherd:** Probably. Just keep in mind how easy it would be for me to turn my powers to evil.

**Ted Altman:** You are the devil.

**Tom Shepherd:** Never forget it.

**Ted Altman:** How about Bill and I take you and Darcy out for dinner next weekend? Partial payback?

**Tom Shepherd:** I’ll get back to you.

\--

The rest of the week passed in a haze of stress and panic. Nightmares dogged his sleep, and he relied on far too much coffee to help him make it through the days. The weekend was a little better, if only because he was able to spend at least some of it hiding in bed with Billy.  

Billy had built a nest of blankets for the two of them, and brought their laptops to bed. Teddy had spent Saturday morning in between book chapter edits wrapped around Billy, arms around his hips, and lips tracing easy paths along his bare skin. Billy spent the time furiously working on journal papers, the flustered tick-tack of his typing breaking occasionally so that he could push his glasses back up his nose, or comb his fingers absently through Teddy's hair, or set everything aside for a quick meal. Or a slow blow job.

There was a great deal to be said for Chinese delivery and endorphins as stress-reduction agents.

He couldn’t let himself think about the desperate importance of the stakes; about everything that he was going to lose if the meeting on Monday didn’t go his way. He had to soak Billy in now, get him under his skin and incorporate him into every pore. If he was going to be uprooted again, lose all this again, start over in someplace new and cold and _strange_ …

At least he would have these memories to cling to.

\--

Monday morning was a total loss.

Kitty took over his seminar without batting an eye, and Teddy chewed off about half of his thumbnail watching the class discussion from the back corner of the room. Closed in his office with less than half an hour to go, he just about jumped out of his skin when the door opened. _Billy. Thank god._

“Hey, you,” Billy opened, and Teddy put the book he was leafing through back on his shelf. He crossed the tiny office space in two strides, grabbing Billy around the waist and pulling him into his arms.

They stood like that for a while, Billy’s arms slipping around Teddy’s waist and squeezing him tightly in return.

“So I guess that answers my question about how you’re feeling.” Billy’s voice was muffled in Teddy’s shirt, and Teddy let go just enough for him to pull back and breathe. Teddy tipped his head down and rested his forehead against Billy’s, and just… breathed him in.

He smelled like citrus – not his aftershave at all, Teddy had eventually discovered, but some fancy soap that he claimed helped him wake up in the mornings. And there was the faint hint of coffee, and that heady scent just inside the collar of his shirt that was entirely him and utterly _perfect_ , and-

“When you’re done sniffing me,” Billy’s voice was light, but he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Teddy’s jaw. “I-“ And his voice broke a little. “I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am. If this _was_ Nate all along, then this is all my fault; for not breaking it off with him sooner, for bringing him into your life.”

“Hey,” Teddy kissed Billy soundly; definitely the best and fastest way to get him to stop talking. “Hey,” he repeated, after he let go. He settled his hands on Billy’s hips and leaned in to press their foreheads together again. The touch grounded him; they were here, and real, and together and safe. “It’s not your fault, alright? Nothing that he ever did or said is in any way your fault. Normal people talk things out, or walk away. They don’t enact weird convoluted revenge plots against the ‘other man.’ This is real life, not a Bette Midler movie.”

“ _First Wives Club_ was awesome, and I won’t hear a word said against it,” Billy replied, a small smile replacing the despair that had been there a moment before.   

They stood there together, their breath mingling in the space between their bodies. A desperate pang surged up inside and Teddy closed his eyes against it. He needed to breathe but his heart was racing; he needed to say it, but his tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth. “Billy,” he started, and Billy’s fingers closed snug against his waist in response.

He could do this. He _could_. Now or never.

"Whatever happens next,” Teddy continued. Then there was nothing else to put in between, and he was past the point of taking it back and pretending that was all he’d meant to say. “I love you." Teddy almost choked on the words but he got them out, left them hanging in the air.

Now he knew, whatever he wanted to do with it. Teddy had stripped himself, bare and vulnerable, and Billy held all the power between them. 

"Teddy-" Billy surged up into his arms and kissed him and he wasn’t saying it back, but it wasn't rejection or scorn, either. He could live with that. Billy probably needed time; it had only been four months and Teddy had jumped the gun, but –

Billy tucked his face into the crook of Teddy’s shoulder and held him close. Teddy let out a shaking breath. Why was it so hard? This was the man he loved; there wasn’t much difference between loving and _saying_ that you loved.

Except that it _was_ \- all the difference in the world.

Billy lifted his head and his eyes were squeezed closed. "You know, right?" He murmured, his voice broken and shaky.

_Oh. Oh god. Yes._

"It would still be nice to hear it," Teddy tried, hope flaring bright and brilliant, a nova in his chest. 

Billy hesitated. “It’s funny,” he started, meeting Teddy’s eyes again for the first time since he’d changed everything. “It’s just words. But saying it out loud makes it real, and when something's _real_ it can get broken."

Teddy stroked his thumbs up and down over Billy’s waist, finding the edge of his shirt and tucking in underneath, just to brush his fingertips against the warm skin there. "Or it can be protected. But it's okay; you don't have to.”

He wanted it more than anything, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.

"I want to. I love you." And more than Billy’s voice was shaking. Teddy pulled him in again, and held him close.

No matter what was coming, he had this moment, and he had Billy, warm and real and in his arms. He could face down a dozen armies just for this, and come out victorious. Teddy felt his eyes prickle sharply in the corners, and he squeezed them closed. "I've got you," he murmured, his breath hot against Billy’s ear.

Billy let out a sigh that almost sounded like half of a sob, or a quiet laugh, and he curled in to Teddy’s arms, the missing piece of his puzzle. “I know.”

The next knock at the door was Sam, and Teddy let Billy go extremely reluctantly, and only when Sam coughed. “Time to go, Ted. Dr. Kaplan,” Sam nodded at Billy, a faint look of amusement on his face before he got serious again.

“It’ll be fine, Teddy,” Billy promised, and squeezed his hand one last time. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

And that was a promise that he could carry with him. 

Teddy nodded. He slung his coat over his shoulders and grabbed his bag with a heavy heart. He nodded at Sam. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazingly, I have no end notes for this chapter. I know, I'm surprised too. What did I miss?


	12. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein things resolve.
> 
> My thanks and love, as ever and always, to feebleapb and xandertheundead for holding me and walking me through this immense beast!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite done yet! The coda following this chapter is the end of this story, but not the end of Profs!AU. I have a handful of other pieces in the works for this universe; some plotty and some just good ol' PWP.
> 
> Follow the series here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/41145
> 
> Come play with me on tumblr: ardatli.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you to everyone who’s been reading along and leaving kudos and comments. You’ve made updating this such a joy and a pleasure, and I love everyone in this bar! [breaks down in ugly sobs]

**Last Day of Classes - Monday, May 13**

**Reading Day - Tuesday, May 14**

**Spring Semester Exams  - Wednesday, May 15 - Tuesday, May 21**

**Commencement - Wednesday, May 22**

\-- 

The administration building was at the dead center of campus, an imposing edifice of grey stone and vast tree-trunk-like pillars that soared skyward. The porch roof loomed high above Teddy’s head as he walked up the stairs, a sight that had been appropriately impressive when he’d first arrived on campus in August. It was giving him vertigo now.

The spring air was warm enough, at least in the sun. He shouldn’t be feeling the kind of chill that had settled in over him and sunk deep down into his bones. He could name it, if he wanted to. Dread. Anxiety. A kick and surge of adrenaline that made his throat close down and his pulse race, demanding that he fight, not run. Not this time.

“Just breathe,” Sam had instructed him on the walk over. “Be calm, let legal do as much of the talking as you can. They’ll ask some questions, Angel will have a chance to answer, and then you’ll get a turn. If the disciplinary committee are satisfied that they’ve heard enough, they’ll make a ruling.”

“And if not?” It seemed like torture, the idea that the knife could be left to twist in his gut for even longer than it already had been. The last two months had gone by in a blur of stress and fear and regret. There were so many things he’d left undone, days he’d slept-walked through with his head in a fog, barely registering anything. The investigators had had their shot. Was he going to be held hostage to their uncaring timetables for even longer?

He wanted to stamp his feet like a little kid; throw things and kick things and yell ‘it isn’t **_FAIR_** ’ to anyone who would listen.

It wouldn’t help, though. It wouldn’t fix anything.

It never had before.

The tall, twisted brass handles of the main doors were cool in his hands, his palm slick with nervous sweat. He scrubbed it off on his jacket before he tried to take hold. Sam grabbed the handle before he could, and held the door Teddy to step inside.

The difference between the sun outside and the half-darkness of the building lobby was blinding, and Teddy blinked away the ache in his eyes as they responded to the dimmer light. The brass seal of the school glinted at him from the inlay on the floor, a regal, gleaming contrast against the white marble.

 _Esse quam videri_ , read the Latin inscribed around the seal’s circumference.

_To be, rather than to seem._

“We’re meeting down here,” Sam gestured down the hallway and waited for Teddy to catch up. Teddy shook his head and tried to focus on the moment, on the soft scuffing of their shoes on the marble floor, the muffled susurrations of voices from the offices that lined the hallway, the rise and fall of his chest as he forced his breath to slow and hoped his heart rate would go with it.

They rounded the corner and Carol looked up. She was leaning against the wall outside a closed door, and she tucked the book she’d been reading into her shoulder bag.

“Sam,” she nodded, and gave them both something that was trying to be a friendly smile. “Ted.”

Sam nodded in return. “Carol. What’s the status?”

“Just waiting on us.” She folded her arms and paused, her eyes on Teddy like she was expecting him to say something. His phone buzzed at him, exactly the wrong moment for an email or a text. He fumbled with it, the smooth back slippery in fingers that felt half-numb.

**[8 new messages]**

**B: text me when you get out**

**B: it’ll be fine**

**B: and we’ll go home to celebrate justice being done**

**Eli: Is your meeting now? Let me know if anyone needs an ass-kicking.**

**Kate: I’m gonna kill your boyfriend if he doesn’t stop pacing around my office. Just for the record. And hugs. For you, not him.**

**Cassandra Lang: drinks with the gang tonight once you’re exonerated?**

**Darcy: Come by the office after and let me know how it went. Fingers crossed!**

**Tom Shepherd: .**

The last message was blank. It could easily have been an error, a butt-dial or a mistype. If he were ever to bring it up, that was more than likely the answer Tom would give him.

The timing was awfully convenient, though. For a guy who professed not to care.

A rapid ‘xo’ on the phone went to Billy, then Teddy turned it off and slid it into his pocket. He kept his fingers closed around the cool, solid weight; his tether to the friends that would still be waiting for him in the aftermath. Sam and Carol flanked him, a square-jawed presence on each side, their expressions set in mirrored images of determination.

He wasn’t doing this alone.

Teddy lifted his chin just a hair, and set his shoulders. He pushed open the door to the conference room and stepped in.

This room was much more along the lines of what he had been expecting. The high walls were paneled in dark brown, the long wooden table in the middle of the room a glossy version of the same. The chairs around it were upholstered in something dark red, the bay windows that ran from ceiling to floor on one wall hung with curtains to match.

Jasper Sitwell was there, his elbows resting on the table and his fingers steepled, as well as the younger woman, blonde, neatly-coiffed, in a carefully tailored black suit. _Morse-something; something-Morse?_ She had overseen his first interview. There were a couple of other faces Teddy didn’t recognize, sitting on either side of them; the disciplinary committee. Old Guy in a Blue Tie lowered his brows and glared at Teddy impassively, but the woman beside him (red suit, glasses chain) nodded.

None of them looked at all pleased to see him, or be there, though Jasper did give him a nod that seemed affable enough. If he squinted.

It was the other side of the table that made his heart hurt; Angel, the first time he’d seen her since November, her hair down around her shoulders and her blouse demure. An older man sat at her side, balding and with a dark tie pulled tight around his neck. Her lawyer; he had to be.

Teddy should have been angry with her. He should have been furious at her duplicity, at her lies, at the callousness that could allow her to ruin a man’s life for no fault of his own.

All he could see was the way she was holding herself rigid in her chair, the incessant tapping of her carefully manicured nail against the purse she clutched in her lap, the way her other arm was crossed in front of her body like a shield against the world. Angel was nothing more than a kid. And under all that bravado, he’d be willing to bet just about anything that she was scared.

The introductions and case review were a blur, Sitwell and Morse setting papers out in front of themselves and the committee barely blinking. He knew all this, Angel knew all this, why were they wasting time?

Blood thundered in his ears and Teddy fumbled with the glass of water in front of him, sat his fingertips against the smooth, cool surface just to give himself something else to focus on. A single drop of water beaded on the side, and rolled slowly downward. It dragged against the glass, surface tension keeping it rounded even as it left a trail down the clear surface. It got smaller as it slid, depleting itself and leaving a trail of dampness behind.

“Ted?” Carol, murmuring in his ear.

He looked up sharply but no-one else was watching. He shook his head, a subtle jiggle as his answer. “M’fine.”

“Do you know this man, Miss Salvadore?” Morse slid a photograph across the table; Teddy didn’t have to look at it to know which one.

“Should I?” She answered, her voice a challenge and her answer no answer at all.

Morse frowned, her lips tight, and Sitwell leaned forward instead. He smiled, jovial, but his eyes were steel and stone. “It's been suggested,” Sitwell led, and he was doing that thing again, where he was all on her side, just a pleasant guy trying to make things right. “That you were coerced or convinced into making false allegations to further someone else's agenda.”

"No-one coerced me into anything,” Angel replied, whip-sharp and too quickly.

“We’re just trying to get to the bottom of all of this,” Sitwell replied, conciliatory and smooth. He spread his hands in that gesture Teddy remembered from their first meeting – _we’re all in this together._ “Put together the pieces into something that makes sense. Can you-“ he broke off and flipped through another folder, frowning as though he’d lost something. His eyes lit up when he pulled it out. “Here we go. It looks like you had a tough year, Miss Salvadore. But you managed to get your tuition in?”

“I don’t see what any of this has to do with Dr. Altman’s harassment,” Bald Lawyer cut in to say. “Can we focus, please?”   

“I’ll get to it,” Sitwell replied, a hint of shark showing through his smile. “Miss Salvadore?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” Bald Lawyer said quietly. Then louder again,  “it has no bearing on the case.”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t,” Angel sat tall and straight, her jaw set tight. “I got my tuition in, sure. Not like the school was any help. My parents aren't even talking to me, so forget about college money, and they wouldn't sign a couple of stupid forms so I could get FAFSA. All the bursaries go to jocks and kids with rich folks already, and the rest of us get screwed.” And the look she shot at Teddy was pure and undimmed spite. “I _earned_ it. Myself.”

“And the witness account that places you and Mr. Richards in conversation the day before Dr. Altman allegedly propositioned you?” Morse asked, one eyebrow up. Teddy wouldn’t have positioned Sitwell as ‘good cop’ before, but there was a give and take between him and his colleague that suggested it wasn’t anything new.  

“I told you,” Angel retorted, her hands slamming flat on the tabletop and her voice rising. There was a tremble in it that she hadn't had before; anger, or something different? “I don’t know this guy.”

“Mr. Sitwell,” Teddy cleared his throat, speaking for the first time since his mumbled greetings at the beginning. “Ms. Morse, if I can say something? I’ve been sitting here listening and I just – I don’t know. I know it’s not my turn yet, but before this gets worse, and we end up back at square one- I'd like to talk to Angel. Miss Salvadore.”

Carol and Sam had reached out in unison to grab for his arms when he sat forward, but Carol pulled away then and let him go. She was tense beside him, looked at him speculatively and with suspicion. "You'd better know what you're doing," Sam murmured from his other side. But he didn't stop him.

Sitwell frowned, glanced at the committee members and received a puzzled nod from Middle-Aged Red Suit Lady in response.

Teddy took a breath. The air was still and heavy, thick with expectation and the distant back-of-the-throat tang of wood polish. 

_What makes you think she'll listen to you? You're nothing but the enemy to her; an empty shell. They won't believe you either. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable. You may as well give up._

Teddy's inner voice, critical and sly (hiding behind a mask of Greg, but the words were his own), wound its way through his mind.

No. No more.  He imagined Billy, standing there beside him. Billy's hand on his arm rather than Sam's. Billy's praise and love in his ears instead of insecurity and bile.

Teddy smiled, hesitating. The faces around the table looked confused.

"You think I don't understand, that I'm sitting here with some kind of power over you and can't possibly get how it feels to be on the other side," he started, fumbling for the right words. "But I do."

They were all watching, eight pairs of eyes drilling into him, searching out his weak spots and waiting for him to slip up-

_His mother, sitting up in bed, her hands past slender and into scrawny, the weight continuing to fall off her no matter what he tried, the gaudy silk scarf wrapped around her head obscene in its cheerfulness. 'All I want,' she'd said, and he'd tried to stop her, didn't want to hear it. It sounded too final, too much like last words, not the kind of thing that went with Crazy 8s and tomato soup._

_'All I want is for you to grow up to be a good man,' she'd said. 'I'm already so proud of you, and who you're becoming.'_

_He should have told her then. The words had been right there, waiting on his tongue._

_But there had always been that chance, however slim, that she would have been a lot less proud. How could he do that to her, to them, with the certain knowledge that neither of them ever spoke about hanging over everything?_

_Teddy dropped a card on the pile (two of hearts) not looking up to meet her eyes. 'Pick up two, mom.'_

_He wasn't good - or honest - at all._

Teddy pushed on, keeping his voice steady through a sheer act of will.

_To be, rather than to seem._

"I know what it's like to lose everything, and everyone that you thought would be there for you. I know that awful, empty feeling in your gut when you realize that you really are alone in the world."

He did and he didn't; there was Uncle Kurt, who had taken him in; at sixteen there would have been foster care as well. He wouldn't have ended up on the streets. But they hadn't been prepared for a teenager dropping in on them out of the blue, with all the changes and growing pains he brought and the void of grief inside him.  The life insurance money had only gone so far, after all, once the medical bills and her funeral had been paid for. 

Feelings and the stabbing pain of memory and loss had been his own problem to sort out.

"That no matter what well-meaning people try to do, or how much they promise, the reality of it is - you have no real safety net anymore. No soft place to fall. And whatever happens next, it's up to you whether you're gonna survive or not.

"It's so damned easy to listen to someone who promises that they can fix things. That you won't be on your own anymore. That if you do this one little thing, they'll make your troubles go away. You'll get room to breathe again. Just for a minute or two.

"It never ends at one little thing, though, does it? And once you're in over your head it gets so much harder to ask for help from the people who seemed so unlikely to give it even _before_ you screwed up - so why would they ever listen to you now?"

Was that a flicker of recognition somewhere in her eyes? Was any of this getting through? He couldn't look at anyone else; couldn't risk the guessing-game of 'what are you thinking,' and 'how are you seeing me differently now.'

"But we're here. I'm here. I'm listening. And if all _this_ is because of something that I can help you fix - or any of the people in this room can help with... Then let us do it. Let us help you catch your breath.

"Please." He spread his hands, open, honest, begging. "This is your chance to make it right. You and I both know what happened - and what _didn't_ happen. I'm ready to let this be over, today. We all walk away with no further repercussions. Just, do the right thing. Tell the truth. Don't let 'one little thing' ruin both of our lives."

He sat back in his chair and it was only then that he realized his hands were shaking. Nausea roiled up in his gut, a churning panic that he couldn't control, his heart shuddering at twice normal speed deep inside his chest.

Sam squeezed his arm, just once.

It was enough.

It was all up to Angel now.

Angel wavered, and didn't answer right away. She licked her lips, looked down at the photographs and photocopied records, anywhere but at the committee, or Sitwell and Morse, or Teddy.

"I-" she began.

Bald Lawyer cut her off at the pass. "It's in your best interests not to say anything," he instructed quietly.

She glared at him until he carefully removed his hand from where it had landed on top of hers. She turned back to the group and Teddy’s gut clenched. "I won't get in trouble?"

They were looking at him again, then Sitwell opened his mouth to speak-

Teddy got there first. "Total amnesty," he said firmly, and beside him he heard Carol's little 'hm' of surprise.

Angel nodded. She stared at him and Teddy held her gaze, not flinching.

"Yeah," she said, and there was resignation in her voice and defeat and maybe underneath it all a little thread of strength. "I made it up. That is, I didn't make it up; _he_ told me to do it.” And she poked the picture of Nate. “He said that it would be a simple thing, that Dr. Altman had done it before and that no-one was willing to come forward. He told me that he could count on me to be stronger; that I'd be doing all the girls here a favor by exposing him."

Teddy's head spun, and the nausea rose up again, along with the anger. It was one thing to look at printouts and make guesses and another to hear it said out loud. He didn't have the words to put onto Nate; couldn't find a label that was strong enough. 'Super-villain,' his brain decided, humor his best defense against insanity.

“What I don’t get,” Angel straightened up again, her brow lowered and eyes flashing fierce. “Is why. If you didn’t do any of that, didn’t hurt anyone, why did he want to set you up? He’s a nice guy. At least,” she amended after a pause, a silent breath. “He was nice to me.”

Teddy shouldn’t have answered as honestly as he did, but the waves of relief and anger and all the anxiety that he’d been stuffing down for months had left him giddy, riding a new kind of high. So it would be all over the school, if he knew anything about students; so what. The news of the accusations had travelled just as quickly. He didn’t even look at the others for reactions before he spoke. “Nate’s my boyfriend’s ex."

The pause, the moment when she processed not only what he’d said but the relevant pronouns- the light-bulb moment would have been funny if it had been under different circumstances-

Fuck it; it was hysterical.

Angel burst out laughing and Teddy did too, the blank look on her face giving way to understanding and chagrin. “Oh, shiiiit,” she laughed, then flushed red when she glanced at the faces of the others around the table.

He snickered one last time before he was able to get it under control, his brain bubbling with the hilarity of it all. 

There were some grins on other faces when he finally looked around, though Angel’s lawyer and his dour face wasn’t among them. Red Suit Lady looked up from her notes and raised a carefully-groomed grey eyebrow at Angel.

“Shall we finish this off? I believe everyone has places they’d rather be,” she began dryly, though a hint of a smile still lingered on her lips. “Miss Salvadore, are we correct in our assumption that you will be withdrawing the charges against Dr. Altman?”

Angel nodded, toying with the strap of her purse. She had lost that ramrod-straight spine, the tension that had been radiating off of her from the moment Teddy had stepped inside. “That’s right,” she answered.

“And you no longer believe that Dr. Altman acted inappropriately, or abused his position as instructor?”

Sitwell reached for his glass.

“Please,” Angel rolled her eyes and actually grinned at Teddy. Would wonders never cease? “I have amazing tits. Any guy who doesn't even _glance_ at these babies when they're out?” She snorted. “He’s _got_ to be gay.”

The sight of Jasper Sitwell choking as water went up his nose went down as one of the highlights of Teddy's day.  The twinned looks on Sam and Carol’s faces were running a close second and third.

Sam leaned forward, elbows on the table as the room slowly settled back to order. Morse was smacking Sitwell lustily on the back and he waved her off as he stopped sputtering.

Even Bald Lawyer had cracked a small smile at that one, which had to be a first. Teddy would have laid bets on his face shattering first.

Sam waited them out, then asked. "Is the committee ready to make a statement?"

Red Suit nodded. "Given Miss Salvadore's retraction, and the overwhelming evidence to support Dr. Altman's consistently professional conduct, we find that there is no reason to pursue the matter any further. Dr. Altman, are you sure that you don't want to refer this to the student honor board?"

That was a no-brainer, and Teddy nodded. He could – it would be easy. Send her to the board; with all the testimony from this she’d be nailed to the wall in no time. Suspended at the least, possibly expelled. But then what would happen to her life?

It was a no-brainer. "Absolutely sure.” Angel looked up at him, and he let out a long breath. “Everyone deserves a second chance."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt his mother smiling.

The rest was immaterial; shaking hands and rubber-stamps and solemn, private vows that he would never, ever be caught in a position like that again.

The wooden door closed behind him with a triumphant thud, leaving Teddy and Sam together in the hallway. Teddy grabbed for his phone, sent a thumbs-up icon to Billy; there would be time for longer explanations and discussion and play-by-play post-mortems later.

His phone started buzzing before he even got it back to his pocket, but Sam was talking and he let it go. “That was one hell of a speech in there,” Sam said, and he clapped Teddy easily on one shoulder. “You might have let me in on what you were planning, mind you.”

Teddy shrugged, jamming his hands into his pockets and following Sam’s easy stride down the hall. “I've been a dumb, scared kid myself,” he confessed, “doing dumb, scared things. I don't want to see the rest of her life messed up because of it. I got lucky. Maybe she’ll think she did too.”

"You could press charges against Richards for false accusations," Sam suggested, and for a moment Teddy actually considered it. 

"No," he said finally, and the calm that settled over him when he did meant that it had to be the right call. "This has eaten enough of my life; I've let Nate have enough power over me already without handing him more. I'd rather just move on."

Sam nodded, his hands in his pockets in a casual mirror of Teddy’s posture. He nodded, and his approval was like Steve's, in a sense; that way they both made him want to live up to it, and keep living up to it in the future. “You're a good guy, Ted. Don't ever lose that faith. People can always surprise you.”

\--

Teddy barely had time to register the sheer number of people packed into Kate's tiny office when he got back to the department. He opened the door, there was a squeal that could only have come from Cassie, and then Billy was hurtling over warm bodies and into his arms.

"Dammit, Bill," Eli scolded, grabbing on to the desk to stop his chair from tipping.

"Hush," Kate chided, and then Teddy stopped paying attention entirely, because Billy's arms were around him and he was rising up on his toes to close the distance between their mouths. Teddy bent his head to meet him halfway, linking his arms around Billy's waist. He splayed a hand out over the strong, lean lines of Billy's back, catalogued the feel of every muscles and stretch through the cotton of his shirt. There was nothing elegant or sweet about the kiss, just the tail ends of anxiety and dread and blessed, sweet reprieve.

Until someone started making gagging noises from the corner.

"Tom," Teddy greeted him once Billy had given him his tongue back. He draped an arm over Billy's shoulders, intending to shake Tom's hand with the other. It was a plan that would have worked nicely if Kate hadn't given Tom an open-palmed shove as he passed her, which tipped the two men into each other for a brief and hysterically unintentional embrace. Billy yelped and ducked out of the way, all flailing limbs, and Tom recovered long enough to pound Teddy on the shoulder once with a closed fist, bro-hug style.

It wasn't exactly affection, but he'd take it.

"Hang on," Teddy backed away from the pile-on and turned for the door. "I promised Darce I'd check in. Be right back." He slipped out to the sound of the twins starting to bicker, and jogged the few yards down the hall to the department office. Darcy's face vanished from the office window and she pounced as he passed the wall of mailboxes. Teddy spun her around in his arms, because he could, and she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.

"Bill yelled the good news down the hall when you texted," she informed him with a grin, and he set her back down on her feet again. "You got trumped, big guy." 

"It's fine," he grinned, her excitement contagious even overtop of his own again. "It's good; it's all good. Does Pepper know?"

"She does," Darcy replied, nodding. "She had to go sort some printer thing out for Misty and Danny upstairs, but she said to hug you if you got back before she did."

That didn't sound like something Pepper would have said, but he wasn't about to turn down another hug. "Thank you," he said into her curls, the giddiness feeling like a permanent part of him now. Giddiness and gratitude and love. "If it hadn't been for all the evidence that Tom dug up, she'd never have retracted." The proof laid out had given him the strength to fight, and now he got to keep everything that had become as important to him as breathing. "I know you probably can't say anything if you helped, but thank you, anyway. He saved my butt."

The sudden tension in her shoulders suggested that he'd gotten something wrong. It wouldn't have been the first time. He let her go and she stepped out of the hug, and, frowning, tilted her head at him.

"Tom was helping you?" Darcy asked, and an odd look crossed her face that he couldn't quite place.

"Yeah." Teddy scuffed his hand over the back of his neck in chagrin; what had he done now? He'd promised Tom his silence, but Tom and Darcy were dating. Logically, he'd assumed, Darcy would already know. _Damn._

"He pulled some strings, I think," Teddy confessed. "I don't know the exact details. But he's the one who found all the evidence about the set-up, and he sent it all in to Sitwell. It had to have taken him weeks to track everything down-" He stopped talking. Darcy wasn't listening any more. She was looking through the window into the hallway, a knowing smile spreading slowly across her generous mouth.

"I'll catch up with you later, okay?" Darcy patted him on the chest without turning. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, then let it go.

Kate’s office door opened and everyone spilled out. Then it was back to the familiar chaos of hugging and chatter and Billy tucked under his arm, and no conversation more life-altering than 'where are we going for drinks after work.'  

He was good with that.

Ten minutes later, heading back to the office to grab his bag, he heard soft voices around the corner. "Can't - I have to cover the office-"

Tom and Darcy were standing close together and talking, his arms tightly folded in front of him like a shield. "Oh. Yeah, okay. That's fine." Tom ducked his head, but didn't walk away.

Darcy shrugged and tipped her head to the side, "What about tonight? I'm off at 4:30."

Teddy kept walking, leaving them behind. He couldn’t resist one more glance around the corner when he came back out of his office, holding the door so that it closed slowly and silently. The kiss that Tom and Darcy were sharing was a gentle one, and Teddy smiled as he turned and headed for Billy’s office. It was turning out to be a pretty decent day for everyone.

\--

The night was better.

The music at Kate’s friend’s club was loud enough that they had to half-shout to be heard, even crammed as they were into the round upholstered booth. Lights flashed around and above them, colored strobes pulsing in time with the beat. A DJ bounced on her toes in the booth above their heads, and the dance floor was a mass of sweaty, writhing bodies.

Teddy paused on the edge of the crowd, his hands full of bottles, and dithered between going back to the booth to sit – and going back just long enough to drop the drinks and pull Billy out to dance with him. On the one hand, he could hear his friends laughing from here, a sound that pulled at him and stirred up things deep inside that he could barely name.

_If he tried, it would sound a whole lot like ‘family.’_

On the other hand, Bill had changed into jeans and a t-shirt that was snugger than anything he usually wore, the fabric outlining the surprising breadth of his shoulders and clinging to the lean planes of his chest. Teddy was exceptionally fond of those shoulders; the smooth wing of Billy’s collarbone where his sweat collected, the gentle tremors that ran through his muscles when he’d been holding himself over Teddy for a little too long, the way his skin blushed red when Teddy sucked marks into it-

Conversation could wait. His own cheeks were flushed warm by the time he got back to the table and could set the drinks down. 

“…and he sits right in the front row,” Kate was saying, and she tilted her bottle toward Teddy in a salute.

Cassie groaned, and he’d missed some vital piece of the conversation, because Billy was leaning in, laughing, Jonas had tilted his head in his usual expression of vague confusion, and Eli looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon. “Seriously?” Cassie laughed. “How do you call on him in class without thinking ‘I know every single place that you’re tattooed.’?”

Kate snorted. “And pierced.”

“Ooh.”

The back of Billy’s neck flushed red, and Teddy settled his hand there, traced a finger down under the collar of his shirt. Billy sat bolt upright, leaning into Teddy’s touch. But- “What are you talking about?” Teddy asked, curiosity warring with the growing urge to grab Billy and pull him out onto the dance floor, slot his leg between Billy’s sculpted thighs and-

Eli rolled his eyes at them and Kate explained. “One of the sophomores in my research methods class apparently has quite a lucrative side career in the more…” she trailed off for a second, then flashed a wicked grin. “Gymnastic side of the modeling industry.”

"Straight or gay?" Billy asked, the picture of innocence, except for the way he was leaning back against Teddy’s fingers.

The nape of Billy’s neck was hot to the touch and Teddy knew from intimate experience just how much he liked to be touched there. Kissed there. _Bitten_ there. He stroked two fingertips down along the bumps of Billy’s spine and watched the flush climb higher.

“Billy!” Eli objected.

"Just asking."

“Gay,” Kate answered breezily. “Which was the second thing I noticed,” she was teasing Eli, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “Right after ‘gosh, he’s bendy’ and followed closely by ‘he looks weirdly familiar.’”

Eli took the bait, and Billy’s shoulders were shaking with the laughter he was desperately trying to keep inside. "You _watched_?"

"Relax, Eli. I’m not going to get myself hung out to dry like Teddy, here. Only long enough to figure out why I recognized his face.”

“And then-“ Cassie mimed flipping the table and giggled, her cheeks already flushed.

Teddy bent down and murmured in Billy’s ear, nipping gently at his earlobe. “Come dance with me?”

He kept his hand where it was, tracing lazy circles over the soft skin at Billy’s collar, where the short dark hairs tapered away to nothing. Little shivers ran through Billy with every lazy circle that he drew, and he dragged Billy’s collar down to expose a little more of the back of his neck.

It was begging to be kissed, to have Teddy’s mouth pressed against the top of Billy’s spine, for Teddy to run his tongue down along the tendon and graze his teeth across the bone. Billy arched back into him, his dark eyes gone almost entirely black. God, yes; he was visibly hard in his jeans and trying to angle himself so that no-one else would see.

“Yes, that, now,” Billy answered immediately. Teddy grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his chair in a single easy motion.

Eli shook his head at all of them. “How did you even _find_ that?”

“On the internet,” Kate replied without blinking, as Billy hauled Teddy toward the dance floor. She cupped her chin in her hand, elbow on the table. “Why? Where do you get _your_ porn?”

The music drowned out any further replies. They elbowed their way in through the crowd and Billy pressed up against him. Their hips slotted together and Teddy wrapped his arms around Billy to pull him even closer. He trailed kisses along Billy’s ear, his neck, his shoulder above and below the shirt collar.

Billy rolled his hips up against Teddy’s, fit his arms against Teddy’s arms and kissed him back. The immediate urgency had faded a little as they moved, dulled into something sweeter. It was good, just like this, with the music, the press of bodies and the two of them fit together so perfectly. They could take their time, now; they had all the time in the world.

\--

 “What we see instead is a new sense of optimism that flooded the intellectual writings of the day-“ Teddy braced his hands on the edges of the podium, staring out across the full lecture hall. There was nothing like the final week before exams to bring all the ghosts and sleepers back to class, in the desperate hopes of – what? Catching up on three months’ worth of skipped work in one review session? Those who _could_ pull it off deserved all the points they earned, mind you.

The door at the back of the hall burst open, two men sprang through, and Teddy trailed off mid-thought.

It wasn’t their panicked run down the stairs that was most memorable, though that was impressive, or the Darth Vader and Boba Fett helmets, per se, so much as the total lack of other clothing. And it was probably a little cold.

The class erupted in chaos as the pair fled wildly down the central stairs, a couple of shrieks of surprise blending in with the rolling laughter. Teddy folded his arms on the podium and waited it out – what else could he do?

“All hail the emperor!”‘Darth’ hollered, as he pelted across the front of the room, dick flapping and elbows and knees pumping madly, ‘Boba Fett’ close behind.

“Stop!” And there was campus security close on their heels. One uniformed man followed them down the stairs, his descent far more controlled and far less entertaining. The door to Teddy’s left popped open, and another campus cop waited there to intercept.

Downstairs Cop got Darth in an elbow lock before Teddy could blink, and within moment the boys were being firmly-but-lovingly escorted out the door.

“Now we see the tyranny inherent in the system!” ‘Boba Fett’ pumped his fist in the air as he was pushed out the door, and  a handful of Teddy’s students stood and cheered.

The door closed behind them. Teddy stacked his papers and tapping them into a neat little pile to give the buzz of conversation a minute to die down. He fought the grin, sifted through a handful of responses trying to decide – what was actually appropriate? What wasn’t? And with a shrug and a short laugh, he gave in.

“Well, you have to admire their self-confidence,” he offered up, and the class laughed. The last of his uncertainty dissolved, and Teddy grabbed the podium again with a grin. He changed slides. “Moving right along.”

\--

“Are we late?” Billy grabbed his keys and jammed them into his pocket, turning to try and get a glimpse of the clock on his wall.

“Not yet, but if we wait any longer we will be.” Teddy held the door for him, not moving until Billy had joined him in the hallway. “And Kate will kill us and hide our corpses if we miss Cassie’s defense.” It was only across the building, thank goodness; they didn’t have far to go.

A small crowd had gathered by the door to the hall by the time they arrived. Cassie, more formally dressed than Teddy had ever seen her, was lifting her chin while Jonas fastened a slim gold chain around her neck. He kissed her forehead and stepped back, letting the little gold heart settle into the neckline of her blouse.

“You shouldn’t give this to me now,” Cassie objected, glancing over at Billy and Teddy and giving them a wan smile. “What if I don’t pass?”

Jonas looked at her quizzically, as though the question had never occurred to him. “You’ll pass.”

“How do you know?” Cassie objected, dangerously close to a pout.

Jonas smiled. “Because you’re brilliant. Why wouldn’t you succeed?”

“He’s right,” Billy cut in when Cassie started to blush, and he gave her quick hug. “Kate would never have signed off on a defense date if she didn’t think you were ready. These things are love-fests.”

“Remember,” Teddy couldn’t resist adding his own two cents. “You’re the expert in the room. None of us – not even Kate – know as much as you do about your topic.”

“Hell,” Billy teased, “I’m not even sure I know what her topic _is_.” Cassie stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation, then looked over their shoulders. Her eyes went wide.

“Daddy!” And she was off and running down the hall toward a blond man in a suit who had just entered the building. “You came!” He caught her in his arms and they laughed together, and Teddy turned away. He didn’t begrudge any of them their families – not for a second. But it was alright if he was a little wistful sometimes, wasn’t it?

Billy’s arm stole around his waist and squeezed tightly. Even without Teddy saying something, he knew. Teddy rested his chin on Billy's shoulder for a minute, stole his unwavering and unassuming strength and wrapped it up inside himself. He let the moment pass. 

The door opened. Kate stepped out and waved Cassie down. “We’re ready for you to set up,” she called out.

“Is there anything you want me to ask about specifically?” Billy asked Kate, as though picking up the threads of an earlier conversation.

Kate pursed her lips and considered for a moment, then shook her head. “She’s good, I think. If she looks like she’s flailing or about to freak out, pitch her a softball on Theodora’s expansion of the rape law. She can answer that in her sleep.”

“Done and done.”

“Remember to take notes on everything,” Cassie said as she approached the door, and Jonas nodded with what looked like the faint edge of an eye-roll.

“Voice-activated recorder,” he said in simple reply. “Stop worrying.”

Teddy caught her hand as she passed by, and squeezed it once. “You’ll knock ‘em dead,” he promised.

An hour and a half later, as the crowd spilled out of the lecture hall – a good handful of Cassie’s students, a dozen other grad students from the department, faculty and family – Teddy caught Cassie’s hand again. He pulled her in for a quick hug, and a kiss on the cheek, her smile still a little shaky, and more than a little dazed.

“Told you so,” Teddy said, and tugged at one end of her long blonde braid. “Congratulations, _Doctor_ Lang.”

\--

Exam week was a discombobulating time for everyone, the campus caught in an odd suspension between chaos and tedium. Panic roiled off of the student body in fetid clouds, infecting even the grad students and TAs with a jittery nervousness that they didn’t need. When all you were doing was proctoring exams and fending off extension requests, though, the days seemed to alternately fly and crawl.

Coffee. Teddy needed coffee before he could face the endless pacing up and down the aisles in the afternoon exam. And if that wasn’t a sign that he was spending far too much time at Billy’s place with his fancy French press, then he didn’t know what was.  

The lounge was crowded, and Teddy wove his way around Danny and Luke, already on their way out.

“I would rather shove bamboo spikes under my fingernails and set them on fire, than deal with the fascists in the Office for Academic Integrity,” Danny declared vehemently, and Luke grimaced.

“Can’t you just tell the dumbass kid to take the F and be grateful? He plagiarized _your_ paper, so it’s not like you don’t have him dead to rights.”

Any response Danny made was out of Teddy’s earshot, and he made a beeline for the counter and the coffee pot. Tony was sitting on the counter itself, his feet propped up on the back of Steve’s chair. Steve looked about a heartbeat away from getting up and dumping Tony on to the floor, the aura of ‘long-suffering’ etched onto his face. 

 “Who mouth-pipettes anymore?” Tony asked, probably rhetorically. “They’re working with pathogens in that lab; it’s no wonder he’s out sick half the time. I’m tempted to spike his Gatorade with methylene blue next time I go over to the Chem building. Maybe pissing blue for a week will remind him about lab safety.”

The water was cool over Teddy’s fingers as he rinsed his mug in the sink, the remnants of his first cup of the day vanishing down the drain. “It’s generally frowned upon to poison students, isn’t it?” he couldn’t resist asking as he poured the refill. It smelled a bit off and he sniffed the mug. Hazelnut and… something. Chocolate? Darcy had broken into Pepper’s ‘secret’ stash again.

“Students, nothing,” Tony snorted. “I’m talking about Hank Pym. How that man keeps getting funding is beyond me.”

“It’s the crotch-watchers who drive me berserk,” Jess commented, which didn’t seem to fit at all until he looked around and realized it was Steve she was speaking to.

“I don’t have that problem this term,” Steve offered up. Teddy scrounged in the drawer for sugar packets; maybe the flavored coffee would taste a little less nasty if it was sweeter... “I took a picture of my Cold War class while about a third of them were busy texting, and put it up on the projector. The jaw-dropping was priceless. It’s amazing what they think we can’t see from up front.”

“Nice,” Jessica nodded with approval. “I may have to try that.”

Sugar, there was milk in the fridge; Teddy tasted the coffee again and it was about halfway to palatable. And he had all of five minutes now to get across campus, so it would have to do.

\--

_Describe the long-term impact of the Glorious Revolution on English society, including political, religious and economic factors in your answer._

**_The Glorius Revolution took place in 1520 when Henry VII decided that he didn’t like his old wife anymore-_ **

“I give up,” Teddy announced, and pushed the exams away from him across the table. The stack teetered alarmingly  – marked on the left, the much larger pile of to-be-marked on his right - but didn't spill. “I think I’m just so much white noise to them.”

Billy looked up from the essay he was rapidly covering in red pen and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Not good?”

“Not good,” Teddy sighed, and jotted some notes in the margin before tossing his pen down. Where to even start? “I’m at that point where I just don’t care if they learned anything. I should have made all the exams multiple choice, with all the answers as ‘C’. Five minutes to mark, bam bam bam.” He demonstrated the last, waving his hand in the air, then stretched out the cramping muscles in his back, popping his shoulders and elbows in quick succession. Billy snickered, but his eyes were sympathetic.

“Break time,” Billy announced, pushing his chair back. “I’m going cross-eyed here too. I’ll put coffee on.” He trailed his fingers across Teddy’s shoulders as he passed, and Teddy leaned back into the caress. It had become habit, bringing his work over to Billy's place and settling in together (it was twice the size of his apartment, after all, and warmer, and it had Billy in it). He half-turned in the chair and watched Billy putter, filling the kettle and measuring out the coffee grounds. The sun streamed through the kitchen window, golden and lazy, and there was something so perfectly _domestic_ about the moment that he ached.

It was a good kind of ache, all... nostalgia and memory and hope and contentment and a little bit of awe mixed up together. If he could just have this, he would be perfectly happy, for however long they could make it last-

_Forever, if he had the choice-_

And wow, _that_ had come out of nowhere. And he had damn well better keep it to himself. Billy would run screaming, and Teddy wouldn't blame him in the slightest.

_Clingy and needy much, Altman?_

"So my lease is up in July," Billy said out of nowhere. He was focused on loading the coffee press, not looking at Teddy, but he had that trying-to-be-casual tone to his voice that made Teddy's pulse pick up speed.

_Don't be stupid. He's just making conversation._

“Oh?” Teddy asked, stupidly conscious of how carefully he was trying to match Billy’s tone. “Are you thinking of moving?”

Billy darted a glance at him from underneath those stupidly long dark eyelashes, and didn’t answer right away. He loaded the coffeemaker instead, the steam from the kettle whiting out his glasses with fog.

“I don’t want to,” Billy began again, taking off his glasses and scrubbing at them with the hem of his shirt. “But I’ve been covering Nate’s share of the rent out of my savings the last couple of months and I won’t be able to do that for much longer. I looked around, but everything in my price range is either way too far from the university, or it’s a crummy little student place.”

“That’s New York for you,” Teddy replied, watching Billy for some cue that he was missing. “I can see if there’s anything open in my building, but I think that probably qualifies as ‘a crummy little student place’ compared to this.”

“I was thinking,” Billy didn’t put his glasses back on, fiddling with them between his fingers instead. They twirled around, then back, catching Teddy’s eye. “Wondering, actually, if you might want to move in here. We could set up the second bedroom as a bedroom,” he added quickly, the words spilling out of him in a nervous tumble. “If you wanted to keep it more of a roommate thing. But you're here most of the time already, and you said that your lease was up in August.”

He finally stopped to take a breath, his hand half-rising toward his mouth before he dropped it back to his side. “I could move in with Tommy again,” Billy shrugged, looking down at his feet, “but we cramp each other’s style. He likes the swinging bachelor pad thing a bit too much.”

Move in? With Billy? Sign his name on the lease and commit?

His first and most insistent impulse was to say ‘yes’ without thinking. To say yes and keep _on_ saying yes, until Billy finally got tired of him (or the sudden heat-death of the universe, whichever came first). But wasn’t that the kind of gut-level instinct that had gotten him into so much trouble before?

(And won him wonderful things, his treacherous brain reminded him.)

 _Not helpful_.

“And you?” Teddy asked with an arched eyebrow, buying himself a second to try and think about it logically.

Billy’s mouth twisted up in a wry smile. “I could happily live the rest of my life without seeing another bra in the sink.”

Move in with Billy. He hadn’t lived with a lover, ever.

They would share a bed every night. He would fall asleep with Billy in his arms and wake up to his morning breath and foul pre-coffee mood every day. They could curl up together on the couch whenever they felt like it; he’d never have to try and remember at which apartment he’d left his favorite sweater. Cooking together in the evenings could turn into making love on the couch with the dishes left piled in the sink.

He was definitely going to end up picking fights, over the way Billy cranked up the thermostat in the winter, or his total inability to stick to a grocery list (rotting broccoli in the crisper was no big deal when Billy’s budget was the only one under siege; it gave Teddy hives to think about). But they would make up rather than sulk about it; because they would be sharing an apartment and neither of them would have anywhere else to hide.

Teddy held out his hand. Billy set his glasses down on the counter and took it, and Teddy pulled him into his lap. Billy straddled him, and this part was always so _easy_. Teddy buried his hands in Billy’s hair, and tipped his head up to catch Billy’s mouth with his own. Billy’s lips were sweet and plush, and his hands splayed out across Teddy’s stomach, his sides, his hips.

This. He would have this, _all the time._

“So it’s just about finances,” Teddy asked archly, when Billy finally broke the kiss and straightened in his lap. A shadow of uncertainty crossed Billy’s face. His thighs were tight on either side of Teddy’s, his backside curving gently into Teddy’s fingers.

“Among other things,” Billy teased him back, tension an undercurrent below his words. “You’ve got a better sound system.”

“I’ve got _a_ sound system, you mean,” Teddy pointed out, and this was better, this was easier than trying to sort out feelings and all their complications. “Nate took off with yours.”

Billy snorted, shifted like he meant to leave, and Teddy snugged his hands close around Billy’s waist to hold him in place. “What ever happened to romance?” he continued, leaning in for another kiss. “To ‘I can’t live without you,’ or ‘I want you by my side, always’?” He slipped his fingers under the hem of Billy’s shirt, stroked gentle circles into his skin, the soft touch saying what he still had a hard time putting into words.

“This is New York,” Billy pointed out, finally relaxing into his hands with a  smile more tentative than wide. “Real estate _is_ romance.”

“Touché,” Teddy murmured against Billy’s lips. He knew what he wanted; it was right there, waiting for him to have the courage to take it.

Leap of faith time.

Billy would be there to catch him.

“Yes,” Teddy said quietly, and Billy sagged against him in what felt a lot like relief. “If you’re sure, then yes; let’s do it.”

Billy’s hands were hot on his skin, dragging his shirt up before he finished speaking.. “I’m sure,” he said firmly. He brushed his lips along Teddy’s jawline, nipped and kissed at the tender skin just below his ear. Teddy gasped and leaned over, bared his skin for Billy’s mouth. “I want,” Billy whispered softly, and Teddy’s pulse hammered in his throat, his ears. “-your movie collection.”

It turned out that Billy yelped like a little girl when he got dumped on his ass on the kitchen floor.

But laughing that hard during sex felt amazing.

\--

Commencement day – one of five or six or something equally ridiculous, but the only one Teddy was going to have to appear at – dawned bright and blue.

He was at home (his place, rather, which was still home for the moment), alone for the first time since the weekend. In slightly more than two months his apartment wouldn’t be his anymore. One more home he’d drifted through, barely staying long enough to leave a scuff on the walls. If ghosts were impressions of the living on the spaces they loved, he’d be a drifting spirit, anchored to nothing, leaving bloody handprints on nothing but air.

Teddy sat up in bed, rubbed away the last of the sleep from his eyes and with it the weird mood and lingering half-dreams. He stumbled into the shower, then through a scrounged-together breakfast and dressing _(nice pants, nice shoes, don’t bother with a jacket today because no-one’s going to see it anyway)._ His garment bag was the last thing to take before he let his door close and lock behind him.

The dark wool robes showed through the clear plastic panel on the front of the bag he hadn’t opened in a year. He could have arranged a rental, or just bought the hood with its tell-tale green lining and borrowed a plain black robe, but it _felt_ different to walk around in the one that he’d earned. It felt like he was putting on a grown-up costume, with the sweeping velvet-tabbed sleeves and the cape-like hood that hung so-dramatically down his back.

_(And so what if he’d pretended that he was teaching at Hogwarts the first time he’d tried them on, right before his own hooding? That was something no-one ever needed to know.)_

Eli met him in the office as he was changing, the deep green robes with their black velvet trim settling around his shoulders in knee-length folds. Eli managed to look coolly confident in the sober blue of his own. “Ready to go?”

“Not really, but we may as well get this over with. I’m not doing anything except providing stage dressing,” Teddy shrugged. “I’ve got an honors student walking, but that’s it.”

“But you’re impressive and colorful stage dressing, and that’s half of what matters,” Eli answered easily, and they headed out into the sunshine together.

The sharp green smell of fresh-cut grass rose up around them as they stepped onto the quad, brilliant patches of bright flowers sparking around the cornerstones of the old venerable buildings. The breeze plucked at the hems of their gowns, and Teddy resisted the momentary urge to raise his arms and pretend to be flying.

It was hardly professorial, when it came down to it, and the campus was already packed with students and soon-to-be-former-students, parents and guests of all sorts.

“So, Yale?” Teddy frowned at Eli, trying to remember. Yale was definitely blue, but so was CalTech. CalTech didn’t have a history Ph.D, did it?

“Rice,” Eli corrected him, shielding his eyes from the sun and peering ahead of them as they crossed the quad. He gestured at the paler blue velvet stripes on his arm and continued, “Yale’s royal blue with black.” He knew. Of _course_ he did.

Teddy pushed his robes back to find his pants pockets and slid his hands into them. The two of them, sauntering across the grass on a brilliant late-spring day, ivy-covered halls beckoning ahead – it was picture-perfect. “Is that how you spend your free time? Memorizing college color schemes? Do you make cheat sheets?”

“It beats staring off into space during the ceremonies,” Eli shrugged, nonplussed. “Kate and Billy spend most commencements making fun of people’s shoes.”

Of course they did. “It’s not like you can see anything else they’re wearing,” Teddy replied with a grin. “Do you ever wonder if some people say ‘to hell with it’ and just go naked under these things?”

The look that Eli gave him was worth all of the pain he was going to get back in return. “Don’t even joke about that.”

Teddy laughed. “You visualized, not me.”

Kate and Billy were standing at the top of the stairs at the arts center, vibrant and color-blocked in purple and red. Kate had Billy’s red hood flipped over his shoulder and was fussing with something at his collar. Billy turned at Teddy’s greeting and Kate smacked the back of his head, safety pins jammed in her mouth.

“Stop moving,” she scolded him around the pins, and Billy froze in place. “There.” She palmed the last few pins, flipped the hood back and stepped away to get a better look. “Better. Now quit messing around with it and it won’t slide.”

Teddy flickered a questioning eyebrow at Eli and he grinned. “Northwestern and Boston. But that’s not exactly difficult, considering I’ve known these goons for years.”

“Goons?” Kate echoed, as Billy fussed with Teddy’s hood, settling it back over his shoulders.

“Better?” Teddy asked quietly, the noise of Kate and Eli’s bickering rising in the background. “Or are you just trying to cop a feel?”

Billy grinned, the light in his eyes giving Teddy all the answer he needed. “Six of one, half-dozen of the other. Were you actually challenging Eli on his Stupid Professor Trick?”

“It’s a thing?” Teddy asked.

“Every year. He hasn’t been stumped yet.”

Teddy was about to reply, but the oncoming sight stopped him dead. Luke Cage, all six and a half feet of compact muscle, approached with his head held high. He had a set of degree folders tucked under his arm, and a hot pink tam seated firmly on his bald black head. His robes matched the hat. _Was it hot pink, or was it closer to orange? Maybe under artificial light it would be easier to tell._ Royal blue velvet panels down the front and tabs across his sleeves completed the look.

He had to be trolling them. Wasn’t he?

Luke strode past, giving Teddy a side-eyed glance and a smirk. “Don’t start with me, kid. I make this shit look _good_.”

And then he was gone, in through the wide double-doors. Teddy could swear the after-image of the color combination was seared onto his retinas for life.

“Hunh,” he said, vaguely dumbfounded.

“Queens University, in Canada,” said Eli, smug.

Teddy made a note to look that up later. Just in case.   

\--

“The only thing that could possibly improve this speech,” Billy murmured in Teddy’s ear, only moments after Teddy had bitten into the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing, “would be a sharktopus attack. Right now.” They were a few rows back from the front, History tucked in behind Anthropology and Classics, and that meant they could get away with a little more than the poor bastards stuck Looking Interested in the front row.

“I don’t think even a sharktopus could stomach this guy,” Teddy murmured back, one eye on the ancient, tottering speaker delivering the ‘inspirational message’ in a deadly monotone

“I don’t mean him,” Billy replied quietly, and Kate elbowed him from the other side. “Ow. I mean me. Suicide by genetic abomination is looking pretty appealing.”

“You can’t abandon me to face this alone,” Teddy whispered.

Billy kept his face deadpan, though the corner of his mouth was twitching up. “Be strong, darling,” he replied. “And carry on my legacy when I am no more.”

“I-“ was all that Teddy got out before Carol kicked the bottom of his chair from her seat behind him. He flushed, but she was fighting a smirk when he turned to look and mutter an apology. Billy snagged his hand between the chairs to twine their fingers together.

Two hours to go and then freedom. Teddy squeezed Billy’s hand in his, and let the long, full sleeve of his robe fall down to cover them both.

\--

“It was definitely Cassie,” Billy objected, his hands tucked in his pants pockets as he walked, his red doctoral robe open and fluttering out behind him. He jogged up the main stairs just behind Teddy; fell in beside him as they turned toward the hall that led to their offices. “Kate doesn’t squeak.”

“Kate doesn’t jump for joy, either,” Teddy reminded him, “and there was definitely some mutual hopping going on.” Kate, Cassie, either one; it hadn’t exactly been the quiet and solemn handing over of the diploma that the ceremony was supposed to be.

Billy grinned. “True. But remember, Cassie’s been working with Kate since she started here. It’s the end of an era.”

“What’s Cass planning to do now?” Teddy stopped as they got to his office door, and fumbled in his pocket for his keys.

“I’m not sure,” Billy replied, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall as he waited. “She had a few interviews, but I don’t know if she’s heard back from any of them yet.”

It would be strange to lose Cassie from their little group. Jonas as well, since he’d go with her, most likely, wherever she ended up. The more things changed…

He swung his door open, and the moment it took him to register the difference in the room was enough for Billy to follow him in.

His chair was still there. His books were sitting in tidy piles on the floor, as were the papers he had been working on, his pen caddy, and his laptop.

The desk was gone.

On the floor, in the middle of the piles, was a purple sticky note.

Teddy bent to pick it up.

_This desk was encoded for the Life Sciences Building._

_Please submit a requisition order to Procurement to arrange for another._

_Have a nice day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NYCU’s motto, “Esse quam videri,” is actually the motto of the Berklee College of Music. It seemed appropriate.
> 
> \--
> 
> For the record, the gang’s academic regalia:
> 
> Billy: Boston University, http://www.gradgowns.com/STORE_gowns_custom_boston_university.htm
> 
> Kate: Northwestern,
> 
> http://evanstonnow.com/files/imagecache/630x355_scale-and-crop_sharpen/schapiro-colbert-img_0396.jpg
> 
> Eli: Rice University,
> 
> http://thegurglingcod.typepad.com/thegurglingcod/images/riceuniversity.jpg
> 
> Teddy: Dartmouth College,
> 
> http://now.dartmouth.edu/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/commencementJune2012.jpg
> 
> (green with black tabs, on the far right)
> 
> Luke: Queens University,
> 
> http://www.gaspard.ca/queens-university-doctorate-gown/


	13. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two months later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Now_ we're done.

**Coda:**

Teddy set the load of boxes he was carrying carefully down on the floor, and shoved them the rest of the way into the apartment. Eli followed close behind, struggling to see over the top of the box in his own arms. His muttering had accompanied them all the way up the flights of stairs and down the hall, and the litany hadn’t changed. “I hate you. I hate Billy’s apartment, I hate the broken cargo elevator, and I hate your stupid boxes of books.”

“There’s just one load left in the truck, I think,” Teddy replied apologetically. His brow prickled with sweat, both from the work and the summer heat that had turned the world outside into a blast furnace. He scrubbed his arm across his forehead to get rid of the worst of it, but his t-shirt should probably be taken out to the alley and burned.

Eli lifted his lip in a snarl that didn’t seem entirely feigned and stomped out, letting the door slam closed behind him.

Billy had unloaded a case of beer into the fridge the night before, and frankly, it was time. Teddy reached in to the deliciously chilly air and pulled out the first bottle that he could wrap his fingers around. Goosebumps rose in prickled lines on his skin, and he popped the top and drained about half of the bottle in one long swallow. The cold malt dropped through him like a stone, settled and spread inside, everything relaxing and un-knotting simultaneously.

Teddy turned at the strangled sound behind him. Billy was standing in the door to the kitchen, his eyes fixed reverently on the neck of the bottle as Teddy brought it away from his mouth. _Oh really, now?_ Teddy held out the rest of his beer in offer, and Billy crossed the kitchen in two long strides.

“Couldn’t wait until everyone was up?” Billy asked, teasing. He reached for the bottle with one hand, and Teddy’s waist with the other.

Teddy shrugged. “It’s stupid-hot and I was thirsty. Careful-“ he warned, not willing to back away, but suddenly very conscious of his desperate need for a shower. “I stink.”

“I like the way you stink,” Billy nuzzled in as if to prove a point, his own t-shirt and ratty jeans equally the worse for wear. “We can shower later,” he offered, tilting his head up in invitation. “Start this whole ‘living together’ thing off on a high note.”

There was no way Teddy could ever resist that offer. He brushed his mouth against Billy’s, tentatively at first, then harder. He braced one hand on the kitchen counter to hold himself up as Billy slipped his tongue between Teddy’s lips and Teddy’s knees buckled, just a bit.

“I’m going to like living at your place,” Teddy murmured against Billy’s skin, tasting the salt just under his lip. Billy’s jaw was prickly to the touch; he hadn’t shaved this morning and his stubble was exactly the right length to leave marks that would linger. Teddy kissed Billy’s mouth and felt him smile.

Fingers tangled in Teddy’s belt loops, and Billy frowned at him. “ _Our_ place, you mean.”

“Our place,” Teddy accepted the correction, though it didn’t quite feel right. Not yet. Maybe once he had some pictures up, or his books and movies on the shelves. Right at the moment the apartment had been entirely consumed by stacks of haphazardly labelled boxes (when had he managed to accumulate so much _stuff?_ ), and an invasion force of their closest friends.

Who were, amazingly enough, all downstairs at the same time.

Teddy stole the opportunity and kissed Billy again, his hand splayed out flat across his hip. “We should christen it properly, once everyone's gone,” he suggested, and the images that had prompted the suggestion played out in vivid Technicolor behind his eyes. Yeah; that was a _great_ idea.

“How do you plan to do that?” Billy drank and his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. That was unfairly distracting, and Teddy briefly lost his train of thought.

“Um.” He dropped both his hands to Billy’s hips and pulled him in snug. His thigh fit neatly between Billy’s legs, and his fingers curled around the waistband of Billy’s jeans. _Bluff, called._ “First,” Teddy suggested, dropping his voice to a low and drowsy rumble, “I’m going to bend you over the arm of the couch in the living room.” His cheeks flushed hot at what he was saying, but Billy's reaction made the potential for embarrassment worth it. “And rim you until you yell.”

Billy’s eyes flashed wide and his pupils dilated, his breath stuttering in his throat. He rolled his hips up into Teddy in a gesture that seemed born purely out of instinctive need. “ _Oh_. Okay, yeah. That’s… good.”

Billy was entirely focused on Teddy now, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted, and what else could Teddy suggest to keep that look on him? “Here in the kitchen-“ he didn’t have to think too hard about this fantasy. “I’ll ride you long and slow, in one of the chairs. Do you think they’ll hold?”

“Don’t care,” Billy replied instantly. “We’re doing it.”

His mouth was right there, his lower lip plumping red, and Teddy bent his head to mouth at it. He nibbled at Billy’s mouth, pulled his lip gently between his teeth and sucked, and the soft noises that escaped from Billy made him want to hear them all the time.

“Then what?” Billy asked, the beer bottle back down on the counter and his hands running up Teddy’s sides. His skin was damp and his shirt was sticking to him along his ribs, but Billy’s hands – god, those _hands_ – were warm and dry, sliding over his chest and dragging the clinging fabric away.

“Bathroom,” Teddy replied, emboldened. “In the shower. I’ll be on my knees and blow you under the hot water.” That had to happen first, he decided entirely selfishly. Wash off the prickling sweat and the dust and have his hands on Billy at the same time. His hands _and_ his mouth, taking him in deep, the weight of his cock heavy on Teddy’s tongue-

“Oh god,” Billy breathed out. "Bedroom?” His eyes were blown wide and dark, impossibly dark, and the door could open any second now… But Billy was hard against his hip and he couldn’t resist, could never resist this man.

“I have plans. First, I’ll-“ The door slammed, loudly, and they both flinched.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Tommy dropped the boxes he was carrying and gave them a disgusted look from the hallway. “I didn’t sign on to be a pack animal while you two assholes play kissy-face. Get your butts in gear!”

Billy flipped him off, his other hand still parked halfway up Teddy’s shirt. Teddy's face was burning and he let go reluctantly. "Give us a second," he asked, and Tommy turned back to grab the door for Eli and Kate.

Teddy leaned against the counter for a minute. _Think unsexy thoughts_. He willed his erection down, letting out a shaky breath after a moment as blood flow started to return to the rest of his body. He made the mistake, then, of catching Billy's eye. Billy was laughing, disheveled and beautiful, his glasses off and his hair sticking up in all directions. Teddy wanted to run his fingers through to try to tame it, to grab it and pull Billy into a kiss-

_Not helping._

"Okay. I'm good." Billy scrubbed his hands down on the front of his jeans, and nodded. He kissed Teddy gently and headed for the hall, calling instructions as he went. "All the boxes labeled 'office' are for the second bedroom, on the right. No, your _other_ right..."

\--

The two couches gave them more than enough room for everyone to sprawl out, even once Darcy had arrived. ("I come bearing pizza; that's _better_ than lifting boxes.") Teddy curled his leg up underneath him, ignoring Billy's complaints at the movement. He had his hand in Billy's hair again, finally, Billy's head resting in his lap. He curled a lock of dark hair around his finger and tugged gently. Billy rolled a bit so that he could look up at Teddy, and he smiled.

Cassie was sitting in Teddy’s armchair, Jonas on the floor on front of her with his head resting against her thigh. He was gesturing wildly as he tried to explain something complicated about one of his recent projects to Eli, lying on the floor beside him. Eli was nodding occasionally, paying more attention to the pizza than the conversation. Darcy and Kate had commandeered the other couch, Tom sprawled between them. It didn’t look like he was managing to get a word in edgewise, but he looked more relaxed than Teddy had seen him in a long time.

Maybe ever.

“Bullshit,” Tommy said cheerfully, and Teddy snapped back to paying attention to the strands of conversation weaving in and around them.

“Any list of ‘best horror movies’ that has Aliens in the top ten is a load of crap,” Eli insisted, and Jonas stopped talking. “Alien was a horror film, and a groundbreaker, but ‘Aliens’ was pure action-thriller.”

Tommy shrugged. “Alien may be action, but it’s still a lot better than the pretentious ghost stories that Kate likes.”

“If you weren’t scared by ‘The Devil’s Backbone,’ then there is something seriously wrong with you,” Kate sniped back with a grin.

Billy stirred at that one, pushing himself up on his elbows on the couch. “That’s not news.”

Tommy flipped him off, and the smiles that blossomed on Billy and Tommy’s faces were eerily identical.

“Weigh in here, guys,” Darcy commanded, pointing at Billy and Teddy. “Best horror flick.”

“Define ‘best,’” Teddy shot back. “Most entertaining, most terrifying, most creative use of corn syrup and food coloring?”

“Draco-croc,” Billy supplied.

“Shakma,” Teddy riposted. “Psycho killer baboons trump genetic impossibilities.”

“Manos: The Hands of Fate. An instant classic.”

“The only thing horrible about that movie is that anyone actually paid money to make it.” Teddy’s eyes locked on Billy’s, and he knew his answer. He’d still only seen it on his small laptop screen, the images jerky from buffering, Billy’s face in the upper corner and his voice over the headset a presence and a promise of something amazing yet to come. They wouldn’t need to skype movies anymore; Teddy had him, by his side, their breathing slowing into easy synchronization. “Pteranodon,” Teddy replied firmly. There was a flash of recognition in Billy’s eyes, and he nodded in agreement.

Eli groaned and Tom jeered, enough to make Cassie try and hit him with a pillow, and then they were off again, the room filling with easy laughter.

It had to be the best he’d felt in about fifteen years. Give or take a few. Teddy wrapped his arms around Billy, still half-in and half-out of his lap, and held on tight, despite the heat.

He had been alone for far too long. Now, though, that gut-deep ache was gone, replaced with a sense of satisfaction that seeped down into his bones. He had a home. He had friends who filled it with voices and with life. He had Billy, who curled into him as though he’d been part of Teddy forever.

He had everything. And it was magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the Spousal Unit, my inspiration, my biggest fan, my enabler, and forever the Teddy to my Billy. I love you, you big doof. Happy 14th.


End file.
